Chapter 12 Hate Him
Magnus flipped through the files spread across his desk, page after page sliding under his fingers. The soft rustle of paper filled the quiet office, but he didn’t lift his head even once. His posture remained rigid, shoulders squared, jaw tight—completely absorbed on the surface.
But his mind was nowhere near the documents.
It kept drifting… back to Sylvia.
The more he tried to focus, the worse it became. Her face kept appearing in front of him—clear, vivid, impossible to ignore. Especially that look she made when he pleased her in bed. The slight curve of her lips, that soft, breathless look.
His fingers paused mid-page.
A slow, uncomfortable tension built in his body, his shoulders stiffening as he exhaled through his nose, trying to shake it off. He leaned back slightly in his chair, rolling his neck once as if that could clear his thoughts—but it didn’t.
It only made it worse.
“Damn it…” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.
Just then, the sudden ringing of his phone cut through the silence.
Magnus’s eyes flicked toward the desk, irritation flashing briefly across his face. He glanced at the screen—Gregory.
He reached out, fingers brushing the phone before picking it up. With a quick swipe, he answered.
The screen lit up with Gregory’s face.
He was outside, wind pushing through his hair, the background crowded with people moving in and out of a large building. The sky behind him was dull and stormy, typical Edinburgh weather casting a grey tone over everything.
Gregory, however, looked completely at ease.
He smiled the moment he saw Magnus.
Magnus leaned back into his chair, one arm resting lazily on the armrest as he watched him.
“What are you doing?” Gregory asked casually.
“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 sharp snap echoed in the quiet office as it cracked under the sudden pressure of his grip.
Magnus’s head snapped up, his gaze locking onto the screen. His eyes darkened instantly, a storm brewing beneath the surface. The calm from earlier disappeared in a second.
“Say that again,” he said, his voice low, dangerously controlled. “What did you just say?”
Gregory took another slow sip of his Americano, completely unfazed.
“Sylvia. The woman you like.” He shrugged lightly. “Turns out… she’s married.”
His gaze flicked briefly to the crowd passing behind him—people moving, voices blending into background noise—before returning to the screen.
“I checked,” he added, tone still light. “Ran a quick background check on her.” A pause. “She’s already married.”
Silence followed.
Gregory said nothing more. Instead, he watched Magnus closely, his gaze sharpening just a little, studying every flicker of his expression—waiting for something, anything, to crack.
But nothing did.
Magnus didn’t react. At least, not on the surface.
His face went completely still, every trace of emotion wiped clean. No anger. No surprise. Nothing.
But inside—
The words landed like a blow. For a fraction of a second, everything in him went quiet.
Then something dark flickered in his eyes.
‘She’s married? So what?’ His gaze hardened, a cold edge settling in. ‘I’ll take her from him.’
Possessiveness rose fast, curling deep in his chest until it turned into something dangerous.
‘Even if I have to steal her…’
His grip on the broken pen tightened again, the plastic digging into his palm, but he didn’t seem to notice.
Gregory let out a short, amused scoff when Magnus didn’t react. “No reaction at all?” he said, raising a brow. “You just found out she’s married. Isn’t that a big deal?”
His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking visibly as he dragged a hand through his already messy hair, pushing it back roughly. He leaned back in his chair again, forcing a careless posture that didn’t match the tension in his body.
“What reaction should I have?” he asked flatly.
His eyes stayed locked on the screen.
“She’s married. It is what it is.” His brows twitched slightly. “What exactly were you expecting?”
Gregory smiled slowly, like he didn’t believe a word of that. “I can see it on your face,” he said. “You’re not that simple.”
He leaned a little closer to the screen.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Magnus gave a small shrug, one shoulder lifting lazily—but his gaze didn’t soften.
“Nothing,” he said.
A pause.
Then, quietly—
“She’s mine.”
His fingers tapped once against the desk.
“And she will be mine… no matter what.”
Gregory choked slightly on his drink, coughing as he pulled the cup away, eyes widening as he stared at Magnus. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered. “Even after knowing she’s married, you’re still thinking of going after her?”
Magnus didn’t even blink.
His eyes turned colder.
“I never said I was a good man.”
Gregory rolled his eyes, letting out a breath that turned into a quiet chuckle. “Yeah, that much is obvious.”
He shook his head, taking another sip before his tone shifted again.
“Alright, fine. I won’t torture you anymore.”
He took another sip, then added—
“Listen carefully.”
Magnus’s gaze sharpened slightly.
“She was married,” Gregory continued. “She’s divorced now.”
The shift was immediate.
Magnus stilled.
The tension that had been coiled tightly in Magnus’s chest suddenly loosened, like a weight being lifted. His shoulders eased just slightly, and he drew in a slow, deep breath without realizing it.
Relief.
Pure and sudden.
His posture straightened at once, back going stiff again, but this time for a different reason. His eyes locked onto Gregory, sharper than before.
“Who was her husband?” he asked.
Gregory shook his head, frowning. “No idea. I tried to find out, but nothing came up.”
He took another slow sip of his coffee.
“She’s never introduced him to anyone. No records, no public appearances… nothing. It’s like he doesn’t exist.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Magnus muttered, his brows drawing together.
He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the desk, the broken pen still clenched between his fingers.
“If she were married, she wouldn’t need to hide it.”
His eyes darkened as his thoughts began to race.
“With today’s technology? Cameras on her all the time?” he added, his voice turning sharper. “It’s not that easy to keep something like a marriage hidden.”
His eyes darkened slightly.
“Who could it be…”
Gregory hummed. “If you ask me?” he said, taking another sip. “The only way to hide something like that… is if the man has power. Enough to erase any trace.”
Magnus’s gaze flickered.
“…One of the rich families?” he said quietly.
“Exactly.” Gregory gave a small nod. “That’s the only explanation that fits.”
A brief silence passed between them.
Then Gregory exhaled, stretching his shoulders slightly. “Alright, I’m going to hang up,” he said, lifting his cup. “I need to enjoy this coffee and take a break. We’ll talk later.”
He hung up.
Silence filled the room.
Magnus’s face slowly fell into a deep, thoughtful look, his brows drawing together as his grip on the phone tightened for a brief second before he tossed it onto the table.
“Fuck!” he gritted under his breath.
Gregory’s voice kept echoing in his head.
‘She’s already married.’
Again and again, his thoughts circled back to Sylvia.