Chapter 6 Opportunities #2
She then walked over to Emma. The moment she stepped closer, Emma’s irritation vanished instantly. Her face broke into a bright, wide smile. She slipped her arm through Sophia’s, clinging to her affectionately.
“Come on,” Emma said excitedly, already tugging her toward the hallway.
Together, they walked out of Centurion Hall.
***
Gregory stepped out of the elevator and headed toward the CEO office at Empire of Diamonds, his footsteps echoing faintly against the polished marble floors.
The entire floor was wrapped in silence, the kind of silence reserved for the highest level of power. Even the staff outside moved carefully, afraid to make unnecessary noise.
At the center of the vast CEO office, behind a sleek black desk, Magnus sat leaning back in his chair, eyes closed.
His tie was loosened slightly. The faint shadows beneath his eyes were impossible to miss. One hand rested on the armrest, fingers tapping slowly.
Gregory didn’t knock.
He walked straight in.
The moment Gregory’s footsteps came closer, Magnus opened his eyes without moving his head.
They landed on Gregory immediately, following him in silence as he approached.
“Look at your eyes,” Gregory said, frowning as he dragged a chair across from the desk. The legs scraped loudly against the floor before he dropped into it. “What happened to you? Didn’t you sleep at all last night?”
Magnus’s brows pulled together slightly. He didn’t answer the question.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
His voice was low, hoarse, threaded with impatience.
Gregory exhaled and leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair. “I came for you, obviously.” He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “I traced the information on her cards. Tried to see if someone else was involved with Violet.”
Magnus’s fingers stopped tapping.
“And?” he asked flatly.
Gregory’s expression shifted. “Turns out your hunch was right.”
Magnus moved.
The chair creaked softly as he straightened, eyes narrowing. “Who?”
Gregory rubbed his jaw. “Whoever it was, they cleaned things up fast. By the time I got there, the trail had already been erased.”
The air in the room turned cold.
“But the origin point?” he continued. “The timing. The routing. It came from the Thompsons.”
He met Magnus’s eyes.
“And in the Thompson family,” Gregory continued carefully, “there’s only one person who has enough connection and stupidity to offend you like this.”
Magnus’s jaw tightened.
“Celia?” he asked quietly.
His eyes darkened as the name left his lips.
“Yes,” Gregory confirmed.
For a moment, silence stretched between them.
Magnus’s knuckles turned pale as his fingers curled against the desk. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“She’s bold,” Gregory muttered.
Magnus let out a low, humorless laugh.
“Bold?” he repeated under his breath.
He leaned forward slightly, voice turning icy. “Find out. I want evidence that will keep her in prison long enough to regret being born.”
His gaze turned murderous.
“No one hurts my wife and stays alive.”
Silence.
Then Magnus leaned back again and closed his eyes, sealing the matter.
“Are you done?” he asked quietly. “Leave.”
Gregory didn’t move.
Instead, he watched him closely.
The exhaustion hidden under control. The anger swallowed instead of released.
“Are you really serious about Sophia?” Gregory asked.
Magnus didn’t respond.
“If you’re serious,” Gregory pressed, leaning forward now, elbows on the desk, “then shouldn’t you be doing more than just cleaning up messes behind the scenes? What’s your plan? Are you going to live with her? Or is this about to end?”
Nothing.
Just the slow sound of Magnus’s breathing.
Finally, Magnus lifted a hand and waved it dismissively, irritation clear.
“Leave,” he said. “Don’t speak nonsense to me right now. I don’t have the patience.”
Gregory scoffed. “Don’t give me that. Clear your head. Do you want her or not?”
Magnus didn’t answer. Instead he opened his eyes and got to his feet. Without giving Gregory a glance he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and headed out of the office.
Gregory threw his head back in frustration.
“For God’s sake, Magnus!” he shouted after him. “Make up your mind!”
But Magnus didn’t pause. His strides were loud as he walked out of the office and went down the elevator.
Outside, the wind brushed cool against Magnus’s face as he stepped out.
Timothy was already waiting beside the car, posture straight, expression alert.
The moment he saw Magnus, he hurried forward and opened the rear door. “Sir.”
Magnus entered, coat shifting, the faint scent of cold air following him inside. The door shut with a muted thud.
The car started, and raced through the streets. Timothy adjusted the rearview mirror slightly, his eyes flicking up to study Magnus’s reflection. The afternoon sun filtered through the tinted windows, cutting across Magnus’s sharp features, casting half his face in shadow.
“Mr. Thompson is waiting for you at the Hotel du Lac,” Timothy said carefully. “He requested that you meet him on the top floor—in a private suite—to discuss the deal for the black diamonds mine.”
Magnus’s gaze shifted slowly from the passing skyline to the mirror.
The faint hum of the engine filled the silence that followed.
Magnus didn’t move.
Timothy continued, the words pushing out slower now. “Usually it would be a business dinner. A restaurant. Something public. This…” He exhaled quietly. “It feels off.”
He hesitated.
“Given your… history with Miss Celia and her family…” Timothy added cautiously, “there may be more to this than we see. I just want to confirm if you still want to proceed as planned.”
Magnus’s eyes finally shifted.
In the mirror, they were dark. Cold. Bottomless.
“Let it be,” he said flatly. “It’s business. We’ll treat it as business. Get it over with.”
Timothy nodded at once. “Yes, sir.”
The car merged into the Manhattan traffic. Horns blared faintly in the distance.
Soon, it rolled to a smooth stop at the hotel entrance.
The vehicle came to a smooth stop in front of the Hotel du Lac. The grand facade reflected the fading gold of the afternoon sun. A valet rushed forward, bowing slightly as he opened the door.
Magnus strode toward the lobby, coat moving behind him, shoes striking the marble with sharp, confident echoes.
He moved through the revolving doors and into the lobby. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. The scent of expensive perfume and polished marble lingered in the air.
Timothy caught up quickly, matching his pace.
They entered the private elevator. The doors slid shut with a soft metallic sound, sealing them inside. The confined space amplified the quiet tension.
Timothy pressed the button for the top floor. The elevator rose smoothly.
Magnus stood with his hands in his coat pockets, posture straight, shoulders squared. His reflection stared back at him from the mirrored walls.
A soft chime echoed as the elevator stopped.
The doors slid open.
The hallway greeted them with plush carpet and expensive silence.
“I’ll wait here, sir,” Timothy said, stopping beside the elevator.
Magnus gave a short nod and walked down the hallway.
The corridor was long and silent, carpet swallowing the sound of his footsteps. The lighting was dimmer here—warmer, more private. At the very end of the hall, he stopped.
He glanced at his phone to confirm the room number.
Then he swiped the key card.
The lock clicked.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The suite was large. Spacious. Elegant.
And completely silent.
Soft lighting. Curtains half drawn. A faint trace of floral air freshener lingered in the air, sweet enough to be suffocating.
But there was no one there.
Magnus’s brows pulled together slightly.
He stepped inside anyway, the door shutting softly behind him. The faint hum of the air conditioning filled the space.
He walked toward the couch and sat down slowly, scanning the room once more, impatience radiating off him like heat.
He pulled out his phone and began typing a message to Timothy.
‘Jerry isn’t here yet. Find out where he is.’
He hadn’t even finished the sentence when—
A pair of arms wrapped around his neck from behind.
Overwhelming heavy perfume flooded his senses.
“Magnus,” Celia’s sweet voice came from near his ear.
Her body pressed against his back. Her lips brushed against his neck, leaving a lingering kiss against his skin.
Magnus reacted instantly.
He grabbed her wrists and jerked forward sharply, throwing her arms off him.
Celia gasped, stumbling sideways. She lost her balance and fell back onto the couch with a soft thud, her hair spilling across her shoulders.
Magnus was already on his feet.
Towering.
Fury burned in his eyes.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded.
Celia looked up at him, recovering quickly, smoothing her hair back as if nothing had happened. A smile curved her lips.
“Magnus,” she said lightly. “I came to meet you. Can’t you see?”
Magnus took a step forward. His eyes were murderous.
“I came to meet your father,” he snapped. “He asked me here for a damn meeting.”
Each word grew harsher.
“Where. Is. Jerry?”
“I came instead. Isn’t it more convenient?”
Celia’s lips curved into a soft, calculated smile. The scent of her expensive perfume lingered in the air as she stepped closer to Magnus, closing the distance. She reached out and slipped her hand into his, her fingers curling around his firmly.
Her heels clicked lightly against the marble floor as she leaned in, her voice lowering into something sweet and tempting.
“I’ve decided, I’ll give you our diamond mine. But how about I give it to you for free?”
She tilted her chin up, gazing into his eyes with open ambition.
“If you marry me, then not only our diamond mine… but our entire business will be yours. What do you think?”
For a split second, there was silence.
Then Magnus violently yanked his hand out of her grasp as if he had been burned.