Chapter 9 You’re Not My Boss #2
Then—
“Aah—!”
A sharp scream tore out of her throat.
She dropped the glass back onto the counter with a clatter and stumbled backward, her face turning pale.
“Magnus?!” she shouted, her voice rising with panic.
Without thinking, she turned and ran straight toward Magnus.
In the next second, she jumped into him.
Magnus reacted instantly, his hands coming up to catch her. He grabbed her thighs, lifting her up against him as she clung to him tightly.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers digging into his shirt as she pressed herself against him.
“Cockroach! Cockroach!” she cried, pointing toward the sink, her voice shaking. “It’s right over there!”
Her voice rose with every word, panic clear as she buried herself closer against him.
Magnus stiffened for a split second at her sudden jump, then an amused smile tugged at his lips.
His grip on her tightened instinctively, one arm firm under her thighs, the other securing her against his chest as she clung to him.
He could feel it—her heartbeat, fast and frantic, pounding against him.
He drew in a slow breath, steadying himself, then started walking toward the sink with her still wrapped around him.
“Don’t go near that! Are you mad?” she cried, clinging to him even harder.
Her arms locked around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders as she buried her face against his neck, eyes squeezed shut. Her breath came fast and uneven, warm against his skin.
Magnus adjusted her in his arms, holding her securely. Still carrying her, he walked toward the sink.
“No—don’t go near it!” she shrieked at once, tightening her grip around his neck.
Ignoring her panic, he reached the counter, grabbed a plastic container, and moved with calm precision. He placed it over the cockroach, trapping it underneath.
Then he picked up a lid and slid it carefully beneath the container. With a smooth, practiced movement, he sealed it shut.
Sophia stayed frozen against him, not daring to look.
Magnus carried it to the door, opened it, and tipped the container, letting the cockroach fall outside before pulling it back in and shutting the door.
Magnus turned, walked over to the dustbin, and tossed the container inside.
Only then did he shift his attention back to her.
His arm tightened slightly around her waist as he said, “It’s gone. I took care of it.”
Her breathing was still uneven.
Slowly, she lifted her head from his neck.
Still holding onto him, she cautiously glanced toward the sink, her eyes scanning it to make sure.
There was nothing there.
She took a slow breath, though her heart was still racing hard against her chest.
Blinking, she looked around the kitchen—once, then again—her eyes scanning every corner, just to make sure there was no sign of the cockroach.
When she was finally convinced it was gone, she let out a long breath.
Her body relaxed just a little.
Then she turned her head.
And froze.
Their faces were inches apart.
Her body was still pressed tightly against his, one of his arms wrapped securely around her waist while the other rested at her hips, holding her in place.
Her cheeks flushed instantly, heat rising to her face as she realized how tightly she was holding onto him.
Her eyes flickered up to his.
Magnus didn’t look away. Instead, he leaned closer.
His lips brushed against hers.
The contact was soft at first—barely there.
Then, within seconds, it deepened.
His hand tightened slightly at her waist as he pulled her closer, closing whatever little space remained between them. His lips moved against hers with growing intensity, unhurried but firm.
Sophia’s breath hitched.
Her fingers curled into his shirt as she held onto him, her body reacting before her thoughts could catch up.
He tilted his head slightly, his lips trailing from hers to the corner of her mouth, then lower—
To her neck.
Her breathing grew heavier, uneven, her chest rising and falling faster with each passing second.
Magnus lifted her effortlessly and set her down on the kitchen counter, stepping in between her legs without hesitation. One hand braced beside her while the other remained at her waist, keeping her close.
The world around them blurred.
The kitchen.
The noise.
Everything faded.
All she could feel was him.
And then, the sharp ring of the doorbell cut through the air.
Sophia jerked back in shock, her body going stiff as if she’d just woken up.
Magnus didn’t stop.
He leaned in again instantly, chasing her lips like he was starving for the kiss, his hand tightening around her waist as he tried to pull her back to him. But Sophia pressed her palm firmly against his shoulder, holding him back.
“Magnus—” she breathed, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her breath uneven.
He still tried to close the distance, his lips brushing just short of hers, refusing to give up. But she turned her face slightly and pushed harder against his shoulder, forcing space between them.
The doorbell rang again.
Longer this time. Louder.
Sophia pushed harder against his shoulder. “Stop.”
This time, he froze.
A curse slipped past his lips, low and sharp, the frustration clear in his voice. He dragged a hand through his hair, jaw tightening, then turned abruptly and strode toward the door.
Sophia stayed there for a second, still sitting on the countertop, her pulse racing.
Then she quickly slid down, her feet hitting the floor. She smoothed her hair with shaky fingers and walked out of the kitchen, heading toward the dining table as if putting distance between them would calm her down.
When Magnus came back in, a food delivery bag hung from his hand.
She glanced at it, then at him. “What is it?”
Magnus placed the bag on the table and started unwrapping it.
“I can’t really cook anything proper,” he said, his voice lower now, calmer. “Just quick, basic stuff. I couldn’t let you eat instant noodles, so I ordered something better.”
Sophia pressed her lips together, trying to hide her smile as she watched him. He began unpacking the containers.
Casually, she reached for the bill attached to the bag and glanced over it.
Steak, truffle pasta, grilled salmon, buttered asparagus, fresh salad, and tiramisu.
But then her expression shifted.
A small frown formed.
“It says it’s from Neymar.”
Magnus’s head snapped up instantly.
“What?”
His expression changed in a second. His brows drew together sharply as he grabbed the bill from her hand, his fingers tightening around the paper. He flipped it over, scanning it again, then immediately looked inside the bag.
There was a handwritten note.
His jaw clenched as he pulled it out.
Before he could read it, Sophia took it from his hand.
She unfolded it and read aloud, her tone light at first—
“Since I couldn’t have dinner with you, I sent it over instead. I hope you enjoy it. I tried to include your favorites… so you can at least have a good night. Hopefully, next time, we can have dinner together. Love, Ney—”
She didn’t get to finish.
Magnus snatched the note from her hand.
In the next second, he tore it apart.
The paper ripped harshly between his fingers, piece after piece, his expression darkening with each motion. His jaw was locked, his eyes cold with anger.
Without saying a word, he shoved everything back into the bag—containers, cutlery, everything—his movements rough and impatient.
Then he grabbed the bag, turned sharply, and started toward the door.
She hurried after him and grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?”
Her fingers tightened around his sleeve as she tried to stop him, stepping in front of him to block his way. With her other hand, she reached for the bag, trying to pull it from his grip.
Magnus reacted instantly.
He caught her wrist mid-air, his fingers wrapping tightly around it, stopping her.
“I told you to stay away from that asshole,” he snapped. “He’s not a good man.”
His jaw was clenched, the muscles ticking as he stared down at her.
Sophia frowned, her brows pulling tight as she tried to yank her hand free. His grip didn’t loosen easily.
“My life is none of your business,” she shot back. “He sent it for me. This is between him and me.”
Magnus’s lips curled, his gaze turning colder. For a brief second, his fingers tightened around her wrist before he abruptly let go.
“Eating food from other men will make you sick,” he growled.
He lifted the bag, holding it away from his body as if it were something dirty.
“I already ordered good food for you. It’ll be here any minute,” he added, his voice hardening. “Eat that. Not this fucking garbage.”
His voice rose at the end, snapping through the air.
Sophia’s chest rose with anger, her lips parting to fire back—
—but he had already turned away.
His movements were rough, impatient. He snatched his phone off the counter in one swift motion and strode toward the door without a second glance.
“Magnus!”
She spun around and hurried after him, frustration spilling over.
But he didn’t slow down.
He yanked the door open and walked out, still holding the bag away from himself like it disgusted him, his face set in clear irritation.
The door slammed shut behind him.
The sound rang through the house, loud and jarring.
Sophia stopped in the middle of the room, her steps faltering as she stared at the closed door. For a second, she just stood there, frozen—disbelief flickering across her face.
Then anger surged in.
“Are you serious?!” she shouted after him, even though she knew he was already gone. “Stop acting like that! You’re not my boss!”
Her voice echoed back at her.
But there was no answer.
He was already gone.
Her chest rose and fell sharply as she let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through her hair.
“He’s not my husband anymore,” she muttered under her breath, anger still thick in her voice. “But he still acts like he owns me.”
Her hands slowly curled into tight fists at her sides, her nails pressing into her palms.