“Sir, you’re bleeding,” Timothy tried again, stepping forward cautiously.
Magnus didn’t even look at him.
Instead, his eyes fell on a metal decorative piece sitting near the sink.
He picked it up.
And hurled it at the mirror.
The glass shattered instantly.
The explosion of sound echoed through the bathroom. Shards rained down onto the sink and the floor, scattering everywhere.
Now the bathroom was a complete mess—glass everywhere, toiletries crushed, blood staining the sink.
Magnus stood there for a second, breathing hard, staring at his own fractured reflection in the broken mirror pieces.
Then he turned and walked back into the bedroom.
“What else is left?” he growled under his breath, eyes wild.
Timothy stepped cautiously inside.
Magnus’s gaze snapped to him.
“What else did she touch while living in my house?” he demanded, his voice hoarse and furious.
Timothy remained silent.
“She’s already living with another man,” Magnus spat. “There’s no need to keep anything she ever touched in this house.”
His fists clenched, blood smearing across his knuckles.
“Throw everything out. I don’t want a single thing in this house that reminds me of her.”
His eyes burned with fury.
“There’s no reason to keep a stranger’s things in my fucking house.”
Timothy instinctively stepped back as Magnus suddenly stormed toward Sophia’s closet.
He yanked the doors open violently. They hit the wall with a loud bang.
Magnus stared inside.
It was empty.
Nothing of hers left.
That only made him angrier.
For a second, he just stood there, breathing heavily.
Then rage exploded again.
He slammed the closet doors shut so hard the sound echoed across the entire first floor.
“Mr. Graves… you might regret this when you’re not drunk,” Timothy said cautiously, his voice filled with concern.
