Magnus’s jaw tightened.
Before he could respond, there was a knock on the door.
“Mr. Graves?”
Magnus looked up. “Come in.”
Timothy stepped inside respectfully. “Miss Thompson is downstairs. She’s insisting on meeting you.”
Magnus’s expression darkened instantly.
“There’s no need—” he began coldly.
But he stopped mid-sentence.
A thought crossed his mind.
His expression shifted.
“It’s fine. Bring her up. Take her in the meeting room.”
Timothy nodded.
“And,” Magnus added, “go pick Sophia up immediately. Bring her here.”
Gregory raised a brow in question.
Timothy nodded once, quick and obedient, then turned and left the office, the door clicking shut behind him.
Silence settled.
Magnus exhaled slowly, then looked at Gregory. There was something almost boyish beneath the usual authority in his expression — a restrained excitement he didn’t bother hiding this time.
“Sophia will see it for herself,” he said, smoothing an invisible crease from his sleeve. “Celia will apologize to her. In front of everyone.”
His lips curved faintly.
“And once she does, all the misunderstandings she has about me will finally be gone.”
***
Celia had been waiting in the meeting room for nearly an hour, pacing restlessly.
The moment the door finally opened and Magnus walked in, her face brightened immediately. A relieved smile appeared on her lips as she stood up quickly.
“Magnus—”
She rushed toward him, reaching for his hand.
He stepped back sharply.
Celia froze.
Embarrassment flickered across her face, but she quickly forced a soft expression back on.
Magnus stood there coldly, his expression unreadable, eyes distant and indifferent.
She tucked her hair behind her ear and stepped forward again, lowering her voice sweetly.
