Chapter 13 Choose Me #3
“Who the fuck were you planning to invite? Neymar?” he snapped, his voice rising. “You brought him into your house? I told you he’s not a good man, and you still—”
“It is none of your business!” she cut him off sharply. “Can you mind your own business for once? What I do with my life has nothing to do with you. You need to leave. Right now.”
Her voice was firm.
Cold.
“The only thing you need to know is,” she added, glaring at him, “that you are the one I didn’t invite.”
Magnus stilled for a second.
Then suddenly, he stepped forward, closing the distance.
His hand shot out, grabbing her arms tightly, his fingers digging into her skin.
“Why do you always act like I’m your enemy?” he demanded, his voice rough, almost desperate beneath the anger. “Is it because of him? Is that who you like? Neymar?”
Sophia winced, trying to pull free. “Let go of me—”
She shoved at his hands, irritation flashing across her face. “It has nothing to do with you who I like. Can you stop acting crazy?”
But he didn’t let go.
His grip only tightened.
With a sharp tug, he pulled her closer, their bodies colliding. He bent down slightly, his face inches from hers, his eyes searching hers intensely.
“Why do you keep rejecting me?” he pressed, his voice lower now, strained. “Every time I try to get close to you… you push me away. Is it true? Do you really like him?”
They were too close.
She could feel his breath against her skin.
Smell the alcohol on him.
Sophia frowned deeply, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Have you been drinking?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he pulled her even closer, his arm tightening around her.
“Do you really hate me that much?” he muttered, his voice rough, almost breaking. “That you’d bring another man into your house? You ignore me like I don’t exist… but with others, you’re completely different. Why is it always me?”
Something in her snapped.
She pushed against him hard.
“It’s none of your business!” she said sharply. Then her eyes hardened, her voice turning colder, sharper. “But since you want to know so badly—I’ll make it clear.”
She looked straight at him.
“I hate you. I hate everything about you. So stop haunting me.”
For a split second—
Silence.
Then his expression twisted.
The anger came rushing back stronger.
Before she could react, he yanked her against him, one arm wrapping tightly around her waist, trapping her.
And then he kissed her.
His lips crashed onto hers. The force of it made her stumble into him, her breath catching as his mouth moved against hers with rough urgency. He didn’t pause. His lips pressed, shifted, then claimed hers again, deeper this time.
Her lips parted on instinct, a soft gasp slipping out, and he took it—tilting his head, sealing his mouth over hers more as if he meant to drown her in that kiss.
His grip tightened at her waist, fingers pressing into her side, holding her exactly where he wanted her as he kissed her again and again.
Hard.
Rough.
Sophia struggled against him, her hands pushing at his chest.
“Are you crazy?!” she shouted, her voice shaking with anger as she tried to shove him away.
He let out a harsh, broken laugh, his eyes blazing.
“Yes, I’m crazy,” Magnus snapped, his voice rising. “I’m going crazy because of you!”
His chest heaved as he pointed at himself. “You hurt me every time! You’re stabbing me right here—” he pressed his fist hard against his chest, “—when you’re so nice to everyone else. Everyone but me. You’re nothing but a damn hypocrite, Sylvia.”
Sophia’s anger flared instantly.
“A hypocrite?” she shot back, her voice sharp. “You are calling me that? You’re the one who discarded me first. You didn’t give me any importance. You didn’t even think I was worthy enough—of your time, of your attention, of anything.”
Her laugh came out bitter.
“And now?” she continued, stepping closer, her eyes burning. “Now you suddenly think I’m good enough? Pretty enough to stand next to you? So you act like this—like you care?” She shook her head. “Isn’t that ridiculous?”
Magnus froze.
For a moment, the anger on his face faltered, replaced by something colder… confused.
His grip on her loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice lower now, strained.
Sophia’s expression hardened again.
“Then get out,” she said flatly.
Something in his eyes shifted.
The sharp anger softened—just a little. His grip loosened further, his hand sliding from her waist, moving upward until his fingers brushed against her cheek.
This time, his touch was gentle.
Almost careful.
“I like you,” he said, his voice quieter now, raw in a way she hadn’t heard before. “Can’t you see that?”
His thumb moved slowly against her skin.
“I want to be with you.”
His gaze searched hers, desperate, almost pleading.
“And I know you like me too,” he added softly. “Even if it’s just a little.”
He swallowed all the pride he had, his voice dropping even lower.
“Please… just accept me.”
His fingers trembled slightly against her face.
“Be mine. I’ll marry you right away. I’ll give you everything I have.” His eyes darkened with intensity. “The only thing I want in this damn world… is your love.”
A pause.
Then, almost like a plea breaking out of him—
“Just love me. Choose me.”
Sophia went still.
For a moment, she didn’t speak.
She just looked at him.
At the desperation in his eyes—the way it burned for her, fierce and hungry, yet so unsteady it almost looked like it might fall apart.
Her chest tightened.
But she forced herself to breathe.
Forced herself to ignore it.
“I won’t,” she said quietly.
Her voice was firm.
“I won’t repeat the same mistake.”
The words hit.
Magnus’s eyes darkened instantly, something fierce igniting in them again.
“It’s not a mistake!” he snapped, his voice rising. “It will never be something you regret. I’m not like your ex-husband—”
“Stop!” she shouted, shoving him back with all her strength.
Her eyes were red now, her voice shaking with anger.
“You’re not like my ex-husband, Magnus?” she laughed bitterly. “You are him!”
His expression froze.
“I won’t fall in love again,” she continued, her voice breaking but stubborn. “I won’t accept you again. I don’t like you. I won’t fall for you.”
She pushed at his chest again, forcing distance between them.
“We don’t have any connection anymore,” she said coldly. “Not work. Not personal. So don’t come looking for me again.”
Magnus didn’t move.
For a second, he just stood there.
His face… fell.
Something in his eyes dimmed, the anger draining out, leaving behind something quieter. He looked at her, his voice lower now, almost uncertain.
“…Is that your real answer?” he asked. “Your true feelings?”
Sophia didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
That was it.
He inhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping slightly, as if something heavy had finally settled on him.
Then he stepped back.
Another step.
His gaze lingered on her for a second longer—hurt, disappointed, defeated.
Then he turned around.
And walked out.
***
Magnus stepped into his house.
His shoulders were slouched, his movements slower now, like the weight of everything had finally caught up to him. His eyes were slightly red, his expression exhausted.
He shut the door behind him quietly.
For a moment, he just stood there.
Then he started walking toward his room—
And stopped.
A figure sat in the living room.
He frowned slightly, turning back.
“Mom?” he muttered.
At once, Camila stood up and hurried toward him.
“You came home so late,” she said, her voice laced with concern. “I’ve been waiting for so long.”
Magnus ran a hand through his hair, his mind still heavy, trying to focus.
“Yeah…” he said distractedly. “What happened? Why are you here?”
Camila stepped closer, her eyes searching his face carefully.
“What about what I asked you to do?” she asked. “Have you made arrangements yet? To talk to Sophia? Invite her home?”
Magnus’s expression changed immediately.
“Mom—” he cut her off sharply, his voice suddenly edged with frustration. “Can you not bring her up again?”
His jaw tightened.
“I told you. Whatever was between her and me… it’s long dead. I don’t want anything to do with her.”
Camila froze.
Anger flashed across her face so suddenly that for a moment, she couldn’t even respond.
Then she turned—
And stormed out.
Outside, she paced beside her car, her heels hitting the ground in quick, frustrated steps.
“What should I do with this fool?” she muttered under her breath. “He was dying to be with her before that damn accident… and now he forgot everything. Now he doesn’t even want to see her?”
She huffed, slamming her hand against the car.
“What should I do to get these two back together?”
She stopped pacing, her foot tapping impatiently as she thought.
Then suddenly—
She pulled out her phone.
Dialed a number.
It rang a few times.
Then—
“Hello?”
Sophia’s voice.
At once, Camila’s tone softened, almost warm.
“Sophia,” she said quickly, “we didn’t get to meet last time. I’ve been missing you so much.” A small pause. “Can we meet today?”
Sophia froze for a second, startled.
It was already nine at night.
She opened her mouth, about to suggest another day, but Camila spoke again before she could.
“I’m actually at the Empire Hall,” Camila said quickly. “Why don’t you come over and see me? Send me your live location so I can know when you’re close.”
Sophia hesitated.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone. She had already refused Camila so many times… doing it again didn’t feel right.
“…Okay,” she finally said softly. “See you soon, Mrs. Graves.”
She hung up.
For a moment, she just stood there, biting her lip.
Then she dialed another number.
Thomas picked up after a few rings.
“Hi, Thomas,” she said. “I need to ask you something.”
At Magnus’s house, Thomas stood a few steps away from Camila as he answered, “Yes, Miss King?”
“Are you taking Mrs. Graves to the Empire Hall right now?”
“Yes.”
Sophia hesitated for a second before asking the real question.
“…Is Magnus there? Is he going to be at the Empire Hall?”
Thomas glanced briefly at Camila before answering carefully, “I don’t think so. He’s already home. It’s unlikely he’ll come.”
Sophia exhaled, relief washing over her.
“Okay… thank you.”
***
Magnus pressed his fingers hard against his forehead, his eyes shut.
But it didn’t help.
The image wouldn’t leave.
Sylvia… with Neymar.
The more he tried to push it away, the clearer it became..
“Damn it—!”
His hand slammed against the table in his study, the sound echoing through the room. He inhaled sharply, pushing himself to his feet—
Just then, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen before picking up the call. “Yes, Thomas?”