Chapter 7 He’s Not My Family #3
Once they returned home, Magnus went straight to his study to finish his work. Sophia, finally relaxed, changed her clothes and curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee, folding her legs beneath herself as she resumed the horror movie she had left unfinished earlier.
Just a while later, her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen, tempted to ignore it—but when she saw Emma’s name, she immediately picked up.
“How did it go?” Emma asked breathlessly.
Sophia frowned. “Why are you huffing like that?”
“I’m at the gym. Running,” Emma replied between heavy breaths. “Now hurry—tell me. What did you see? How’s your mother-in-law? Did you meet Magnus’s brothers as well?”
“Jesus, Emma. At least ask your questions one by one,” Sophia muttered, taking another sip of coffee as she leaned back into the couch.
She didn’t realize that another presence had entered the room behind her.
Magnus walked out of the study when he heard her voice. He crossed the living room quietly, his footsteps muted against the floor. As he drew closer to the back of the couch, Sophia remained completely unaware of him.
She tucked the phone between her shoulder and cheek and reached out with her free hand to lower the volume of the TV.
“I don’t have that much patience,” Emma snickered from the other end. “Come on, spill! Are you back home now, or are you still at your family’s house?”
Sophia frowned.
“It’s not my family’s house,” she muttered. “He’s not my family. Did you forget?”
Magnus’s lips thinned into a hard line. His brows furrowed, anger flashing unmistakably in his eyes the moment those words left her mouth.
Sophia let out a heavy breath and continued, “I’ll tell you everything when we meet tomorrow.”
Without warning, Magnus stepped closer, reached over the back of the couch, and snatched the phone out of her hand, ending the call immediately.
Sophia gasped, spinning around with her mouth already open to snap at whoever had startled her—only to freeze when she looked up and found Magnus standing right in front of her.
His gaze flickered from the phone in his hand back to her face. The look in his eyes was chilling.
“Aren’t you and I married? Aren’t you my wife?!” he asked coldly. “Didn’t we get a legal marriage certificate?”
His voice dropped lower.
“Then how exactly are we not family?”
Sophia stared at him, stunned. Her brows knitted together slowly.
‘Why does he keep calling me his wife?’ she thought. ‘Didn’t we agree we’re only in a contract marriage?’
She closed her eyes briefly and let out a quiet sigh. Then she stood up, walked to the table, picked up the necklace set Camila had given her, and held it out to him.
“It’s not good for me to keep this,” she said quietly. “Your mom prepared it for your real wife. Please keep it safe.”
Magnus’s jaw clenched instantly.
The displeasure in his eyes darkened into something sharper—more dangerous.
“Do you really have to see everything in black and white?” he snapped. “Do you really need to draw such a hard line between us?”
Sophia frowned at his words.
‘Shouldn’t I?’ she thought. ‘Why is he making this so complicated?’
When she remained silent, his anger flared even more.
“Don’t worry,” he said coldly. “Once we’re divorced, I won’t ask you to come back and play the role of my real wife.”
He flung her phone onto the couch and turned away, striding off without looking back.
Sophia remained standing there, frowning deeply, her thoughts tangled as she watched his retreating back.
“What the hell is wrong with his head?”
***
Violet flopped down on the bed beside Joseph, the mattress dipping under her weight as her frustration exploded the moment she sat.
“How could you let this happen, Dad?” she burst out.
“I thought that bitch was marrying some random schoolteacher or something! Didn’t her high-and-mighty grandmother always preach about morality and character over money?
About not marrying for wealth?” Her voice rose, sharp and bitter.
“And then she goes and dumps Sophia straight into the lap of someone that rich?!”
She shot to her feet, eyes burning as she paced a step forward.
“How did Sophia’s husband turn out to be someone like Magnus Graves?” she demanded furiously. “His family practically rules the entire damn country!”
She spun back toward the bed, anger spilling over.
“Didn’t you say the man she was marrying wasn’t much to look at?” Her laugh was strained, almost hysterical. “I just saw him at their house! He’s literally the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”
Her hands clenched into fists on the bed, jealousy and disbelief churning violently inside her.
Joseph let out a heavy sigh, frustration burning plainly in his eyes.
“Because I didn’t give a damn about whom she married, Violet!” he snapped. “She’s just my brother’s daughter. Was I supposed to keep track of who she ended up with? Why the hell would I waste my time?”
He scoffed, flicking his hand dismissively. “All we ever heard from Arthur was that Mila had already chosen a man for Sophia and that the wedding would happen soon. I even heard rumours that the man she was marrying was ugly, a gambler, cunning, a manwhore, vicious.”
Joseph leaned back, irritation deepening.
“They said his reputation was so bad that even the servants in his house weren’t allowed to give a single penny to him. After hearing all that, what reason did I have to look at his face? It wasn’t like I was ever going to give you to him.”
He shook his head sharply, voice turning harsher.
“That old hag tricked everyone! She never mentioned Sophia’s husband’s name—not even once. All she did was spread those rumors through the goddamn servants. How the hell was I supposed to know they were talking about Magnus fucking Graves?”
Violet’s face twisted with displeasure.
Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms as envy burned through her veins. The more she thought about Sophia marrying into a family so wealthy that every rich man Violet had ever known couldn’t even begin to compare, the more unbearable it became.
After a moment, her expression shifted.
The sharp resentment faded, replaced by a soft, pitiful look. She deliberately smoothed her features, then shuffled closer to Joseph. Wrapping both arms around his, she pressed herself against him and whined in a small, wounded voice.
“Dad, look at her,” she said softly. “She’s trying to take everything from us. She deliberately married someone that rich.”
Her grip tightened around his arm.
“I want to marry him!” she continued, her voice trembling with practiced vulnerability.
“I don’t want to be stuck with someone who isn’t on the same level as that bitch’s husband.
What would that do to my reputation? How would we even show our faces if she’s married into a family like that—and I end up with someone lesser? ”
Her tone dropped, resentment seeping through the cracks. “There’s no way that marriage is real. It has to be forced. Arranged because of her grandmother.” Her eyes gleamed as she looked up at him. “Why don’t you help me take her place instead? Let me marry Magnus.”
Joseph’s brows drew together as he considered her words, his fingers tapping lightly on his thigh. For a moment, he said nothing.
Then, slowly, his expression changed.
“Didn’t you hear about the woman everyone said he was involved with?” he asked, his voice thoughtful. “The only woman he kept by his side for years.” He frowned, snapping his fingers as if searching his memory. “…Celia Thompson.”
A calculating smile spread across his face.
“If you want to get rid of Sophia,” he said evenly, “then start by using Celia.”
Joseph pushed himself to his feet, straightening his back. He clasped his hands behind him, the smile on his lips widening as his thoughts took shape.
“Come with me,” he said calmly. “I’ll teach you everything.”
Violet’s eyes lit up instantly, excitement flickering across her face. She hurried after him without hesitation as they left the room together and entered Joseph’s study.