“I just got out of a meeting,” Gregory continued, shifting slightly as someone brushed past him. “I’m meeting Victor. Turns out he already signed a deal with someone else. I’ll try to convince him to work with us instead. I think I can pull him to our side.”
Magnus gave a small nod, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk before he reached for a pen, spinning it between his fingers. “Do it,” he said calmly, his voice steady. “Offer him a longer contract. A few more years should be enough to sway him.”
“Got it,” Gregory replied easily.
Gregory’s eyes lingered on Magnus’s face. His smile slowly shifted into something more curious, more probing.
“What happened to you?” he asked suddenly.
Magnus’s hand paused mid-spin.
He frowned, the pen stopping between his fingers. “What?”
Gregory leaned slightly closer to the camera, squinting as if trying to figure something out. “You look… different today.”
Magnus’s brows pulled together. His tongue brushed over his lips unconsciously before he lifted his hand, swiping his thumb across his mouth in a quick, almost nervous motion.
“What’s different?” he repeated, his tone flat.
Gregory tilted his head, still staring. “Yeah… I don’t know what it is. I can’t pinpoint it, but something’s off. Did something happen?”
Magnus leaned back further into his chair, forcing his body to relax. One ankle crossed over his knee as he spun the pen again, slower this time.
“What would happen?” he snapped lightly. “I’m in the office. Working.”
“Hm.” Gregory didn’t look convinced. “I don’t think it’s that simple,” he said, his lips curving slightly, suspicion clear in his eyes.
Magnus didn’t respond to that.
His jaw tightened, and his gaze shifted away from the screen for a second before returning, colder now. “Are you done?” he said, his tone turning impatient. “I’m hanging up.”
“No—wait.” Gregory straightened instantly, his tone shifting. “I actually have something important to tell you.”
Magnus’s thumb hovered over the screen, ready to end the call.
“Send it to my email,” he said dismissively. “I’ll check it later. I have work to—”
“It’s about Sylvia.”
The words hit like a switch.
Magnus’s movement stopped. His fingers froze mid-air.
The lazy posture disappeared as he straightened in his chair. His gaze locked onto Gregory.
His voice, when he spoke, was low and controlled.
“What about her?”
Gregory paused for a second, glancing to the side as he reached for the coffee he had just picked up. He wrapped his fingers around the warm cup, lifting it to his lips for a quick sip before turning his attention back to the screen.
He started walking again, shoulders relaxed, voice casual.
“Did you know,” he said, almost offhandedly, “that Sylvia is married?”
The pen that had been spinning lazily between Magnus’s fingers stopped.
A sharpsnapechoed in the quiet office as it cracked under the sudden pressure of his grip.
