Jerry stood there for a second longer, face tight, pride shattered.
Humiliated. Furious. Powerless.
But he had no choice.
He turned around stiffly and walked out of the office. Anger burned through him with every step he took toward the exit.
Chapter 8 I’ll End This Marriage
Sophia pulled open the drawers at Centurian Hall one by one, the wood scraping softly in the quiet office. Files, old contracts, notes from years of experience in the industry—she gathered them all with steady hands, stacking them into a neat pile.
Her fingers were cold, almost numb.
She slid everything into a file and placed it carefully on the desk. The computer screen in front of her glowed in the dim light, the website of the Halo London Auction Hall still open. Lines of information blurred before her eyes as she checked whether she needed to update anything on her profile before the transfer.
Her jaw was tight. Her face expressionless.
She kept arranging things on her desk, moving with stiff, mechanical motions, as if keeping busy was the only way to stop her thoughts.
Just then, her office door opened.
Emma stepped inside.
The sudden entrance made Sophia’s fingers pause for a fraction of a second before she continued again.
The click of Emma’s heels softened when she noticed the tension in the room. Her eyes moved from the bag near the desk, to the file in Sophia’s hands, and finally to Sophia’s face.
Emma’s brows drew together as she walked closer. “Sophia… are you sure you want to move to London?”
“I am,” Sophia answered immediately.
Her voice didn’t shake. It was flat, almost calm.
She flipped through the papers in the file, the crisp sound loud in the silence.
“Didn’t you say you needed time to think about it?” Emma asked softly. “Did something happen?”
Sophia’s movements stopped.
The silence stretched.
Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at Emma. Her eyes were calm, but something inside them had cracked.
“It’s Magnus," she said. Her voice was flat, almost detached. “When he came home last night… there was lipstick on his neck.”
Emma froze.
“What?” Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her face. “Did he admit he slept with Celia?”
“I didn’t ask.” Sophia shook her head lightly.
She looked away, lips pressed together, the tension in her jaw betraying the storm inside.
“But the more I think about it,” she continued, her voice roughening, “the angrier I get. I know this is a contract marriage… but I thought— I thought we were making progress. I thought he cared about me. That maybe… maybe our relationship was becoming real. That he had feelings for me.”
A soft, broken laugh escaped her.
“But after what I saw yesterday…” Her voice faltered, thin and raw. “I was wrong.”
