1 My Ex-wife
“My goddamn ex-wife!”
The words tore out of Magnus. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he ground his teeth.
Aside from his family, only one person knew the truth about his marriage was her. And she must have told Sylvia.
Her.
Of course it had to be her.
Annoyance darkened his face. He turned away from the window, jaw tight, and strode back toward his desk. Each step was sharp, controlled—like he was trying to outrun his own temper. He grabbed the phone and pressed Brent’s number on speed dial.
It rang twice.
“Mr. Graves?” Brent answered.
“Do you know where Sylvia is today?” Magnus asked, his voice tight, but carrying an edge of frustration.
There was an immediate rustling on the other end, papers shifting. A keyboard clicked. “I have her schedule, Mr. Graves. Please give me a moment.”
Magnus leaned one hand on the desk, fingers spreading against the polished surface. His reflection in the glass looked colder than he felt.
After a brief pause, Brent spoke again. “It looks like she’s taking a break today. She’s at home.”
“Got it.” Magnus picked up his wallet and keys in one smooth motion. “Bring the car to the entrance,” he ordered as he stepped out of the office. “We’re going there.”
“Yes, Mr. Graves.”
By the time Magnus reached the lobby, Brent was already waiting at the entrance.
The drive to Sophia’s apartment wasn’t long. Magnus stared out the window the entire time, his jaw locked, his thoughts restless.
They stopped in front of a villa.
Brent stepped forward to knock, but Magnus lifted a hand, stopping him.
“I’ll do it.”
He stepped closer and knocked firmly.
Brent moved to stand a step behind him, silent and observant.
A few moments later, the door opened.
Sophia stood there.
She wasn’t dressed in one of her fancy, expensive dresses. No designer heels. No sleek hair, no cold elegance.
She was wearing loose shorts and an oversized pink shirt covered in small hearts. Her hair was slightly messy, falling over her shoulders as if she had just gotten out of bed.
Magnus froze.
This was the first time he had seen her dressed so casually. So soft. So… unguarded.
His eyes slowly moved over her before he could stop himself. His fingers tightened inside his pockets.
‘She looks… cuter like this.’ The thought came uninvited. ‘More adorable than in those luxury dresses.’
