Chapter 8 Murder Her Husband #2
The changing room was covered in sleek black tiles. Soft lighting glowed all around, illuminating the spacious room.
Right in front of her stood racks. An entire row of women’s swimsuits, each neatly packaged in clear protective covers, arranged with meticulous care.
Her heartbeat stuttered.
She walked closer, her fingers hesitating for a brief second before she reached out and picked one up. The material was smooth beneath her touch.
Brand new.
The tags were still attached.
Her gaze dropped slowly to the size printed on the label.
Her size.
Her breath caught.
She grabbed another one. Then another, her movements growing quicker, almost restless.
Every single swimsuit—without exception—was her size. There wasn’t a single different size anywhere in the room.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric, knuckles paling as surprise and confusion surged through her chest. A strange pressure built beneath her ribs, something she couldn’t quite name.
She bit her lip, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Did he… arrange this entire room just for me?”
The realization sent a ripple through her. Surprise washed over her first—then something softer, warmer, spreading quietly through her chest, stealing her breath before she could stop it.
Shaking her head slightly, as if to clear her thoughts, she finally picked up one of the swimsuits she liked. She changed quickly, her movements absentminded, her thoughts still tangled.
Moments later, she stepped out of the room, wearing the swimsuit.
Magnus was already at the edge of the pool, dressed in nothing but a pair of dark shorts, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms. The moment Sophia stepped out, his movements stalled.
And then he went completely still.
Not a single muscle moved. His eyes were locked on her as if the rest of the world had abruptly ceased to exist.
She was wearing a low-neck swimsuit—deep blue, patterned with broad square lines, red stripes trimming the edges. It was classic, understated, almost modest in design.
On her… it looked strikingly beautiful.
Magnus felt his heartbeat stutter, then race hard against his ribs, a sharp ache spreading through his chest. ‘It feels like I’ve never seen a woman in a swimsuit before.’
His body reacted before his mind could catch up—heat rushing through him all at once. He shifted his stance, cleared his throat, then turned slightly to the side, pretending to stretch again as if that might somehow hide his reaction.
Sophia walked over and stopped beside him, completely unaware.
Only when his pulse finally steadied did Magnus turn toward her. A slow, challenging smile curved his lips, confidence slipping back into place like a familiar mask.
“Let’s race, Mrs. Graves,” he said, voice lazy, a smirk following. “I’ll let you win.”
Sophia arched a brow, her lips curling into a confident smile of her own.
“You don’t need to show mercy to me, Mr. Graves,” she replied lightly. “Whoever finishes last after ten laps loses.”
Something bright flashed in his eyes. His smile widened, pleased.
“Alright,” he said smoothly. “As you wish.”
Off to the side, Harold and Gregory watched.
Harold grabbed Gregory’s arm, shaking it nervously. “Is he seriously going to compete with Sophia? She’s a total badass for agreeing to this.”
He shuddered dramatically. “I’d never dare challenge him. That bastard’s been swimming since he came out of his mother’s womb. He could break a leg and still win.”
“To be honest, I’m waiting for someone to humble his ego,” Gregory chuckled, shaking his head. “I hope it’s his wife.”
Harold’s eyes lit up instantly. “You’re right. This is gonna be fun.” A crooked smirk tugged at his lips, a laugh barely contained at the corner of his mouth.
Sophia lifted both arms and twisted her hair into a tight bun, her gaze flicking toward Magnus as she secured it.
“Come on,” she said coolly. “Stop wasting time. Let’s start.”
Magnus’s eyes never left her. He watched the way her fingers moved, the practiced ease as she tied her hair, completely mesmerized.
Only her voice snapped him out of it.
He set his hands on his hips, glanced away for a brief second as if steadying himself, then looked back at her.
“All right,” he said with a teasing warning, “if your body gives up, don’t cry like a girl.”
She flashed him a stretched, obviously fake smile and raised her hand.
“Three… two… one!”
They leapt into the water.
Magnus entered a split second later on purpose, giving her a narrow head start. The moment he hit the water, they surged forward together, arms slicing through the pool as the sharp splash of water echoed through the silent hall.
Harold winced as Sophia swam with ruthless aggression, her strokes powerful and fast. She reached the wall first, touched it—and instead of turning immediately, paused just long enough to glance back.
She smirked, her eyes flashing with mischief.
Before Magnus could react, she swept both hands through the water, splashing it straight into his face. The splash hit him squarely, droplets spraying everywhere as she twisted sharply and took off again, cutting through the water with quick, powerful strokes.
Magnus stilled, muscles coiling instinctively, water dripping from his lashes as his eyes locked on hers. A slow, dangerous smirk curved his lips at her bold move.
Then he surged forward, cutting through the water with powerful strokes, the pool churning violently around them. The distance closed in an instant.
Halfway through the lap, his hand shot out, fingers curling around her leg. The instant her momentum halted, his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her impossibly close. The heat of their bodies collided beneath the water, skin slick and heavy, pressed together as he dragged her under with him.
Sophia realized what he was doing and shot him a furious glare, eyes blazing even as they went under.
Her hands shot up, gripping his shoulders, then sliding to his neck as she yanked him down with her, refusing to go alone. Their bodies collided fully under the water, close enough to feel each breath, every heartbeat.
They surfaced together, gasping, her chest pressed against his, water streaming down their faces and bodies.
Sophia’s laughter burst out, bubbling and raw, eyes sparkling despite the thrill and frustration.
She spun sharply, water spraying around them, hair plastered to her damp skin, lashes heavy with droplets.
Without hesitation, she kicked off the edge again, the movement sending a spray of water that drenched them both—and Magnus followed immediately, close enough that the heat of his body trailed hers, his chest brushing against her back as they raced side by side.
They clashed again and again in the pool. Shoulders colliding, hands shoving, bodies deliberately cutting across each other’s paths. Water sprayed everywhere as they tried to throw each other off balance, tangling limbs, splashing hard, each move meant to sabotage the other’s rhythm.
Harold stood far from the pool, arms crossed tightly as he watched the chaos unfold. He winced.
“Wow,” he muttered. “Sophia is ruthless. If I didn’t know they were racing, I’d think she’s trying to murder her husband.”
Gregory let out a low snicker. “Did you forget you’re next on Magnus’s list to defeat?”
Harold’s face visibly paled. His shoulders stiffened as memories of last week’s torture flashed through his mind.
Gregory immediately burst out laughing.
Harold panicked, grabbing Gregory by the sleeve. “Wait—right now his attention isn’t on us. This is our chance. Let’s go! Let’s get out of here before he drags one of us in again!”
Taking full advantage of Magnus’s distraction, the two of them turned and bolted, disappearing as quickly as possible.
After the fifth round ended, Sophia and Magnus hauled themselves out of the pool, water cascading down their bodies as they stopped at the edge, facing each other.
Their chests rose and fell with heavy breaths, muscles taut from exertion, droplets sliding slowly from hair to skin and dripping onto the tiles below.
Sophia was ahead—three wins to his two.
She lifted her chin, lips curved with triumph, eyes sharp as they met his. “Five more,” she declared, voice steady but charged. “I’m counting again.”
Then her gaze hardened, daring him. “And this time, you’re not allowed to let me jump in first. This is a race. Don’t insult me.”
Magnus let out a low, amused snort, dragging a hand through his wet hair and pushing it back. The movement made water trail down his neck, over the hard lines of his shoulders and across his chest, clinging to him like a second skin.
“You and I don’t have the same body,” he said lazily, his voice deep and unhurried. “Of course I’ll give you an advantage.” His eyes flicked over her. “I’m not interested in winning without fairness, Mrs. Graves.”
He turned back toward the pool, rolling his shoulders once, stretching his arms with an ease that only made him look more dangerous—like this was nothing more than a warm-up to him.
“Let’s go,” he added calmly, glancing back at her. “We’re not staying here all night.”
Sophia pressed her lips together, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face before she quickly masked it. After a brief pause, she looked away and let it drop—though her heartbeat stubbornly refused to calm.
“Three… two… one.”
They jumped in again.
Water exploded around them as they hit the pool. This time, he didn’t hold back.
As before, he let her surge ahead—but only for a heartbeat.
Then he moved.
The water seemed to part for him as his body cut through it with ruthless precision. His strokes were powerful, controlled, deadly smooth.
They completed four laps, him winning two of them.
The final lap began.
He reached the wall at the other end first, his hand slapping against the edge as he turned smoothly and pushed off to return. By the time Sophia touched the wall and turned back, he had already crossed half the length of the pool.
Then he slowed.