Chapter 11 Looking For A Husband
A few hours later, the last of the guests had finally left. The house fell into a rare, heavy quiet. Only Sophia, Magnus, and Camila remained.
Sophia exhaled softly, then walked over to Magnus and said, “Let’s go home.”
They had barely taken a few steps toward the door when Camila hurried after them and caught Sophia by the arm.
“Why don’t you both stay the night?” Camila said warmly, her grip gentle but firm. “You left in such a rush last time—I didn’t like that. Stay tonight.”
Sophia smiled politely, trying to pull her arm back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’ve already spent the entire day here. We should go home.”
She shot Magnus a subtle look, her eyes silently asking for help.
But Magnus turned his head away.
She didn’t see the secret, amused smile that curved his lips.
Camila squeezed Sophia’s arm again, her fingers tightening slightly as if urging her on. “Just for tonight. Please?” she said softly, her voice warm and coaxing. A bright smile curved her lips. “You’re going to sleep anyway—so why not sleep here?”
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she added cheerfully, “And you’ll be sleeping in Magnus’s childhood bedroom! Isn’t it exciting? To stay there and see what it was like?”
Sophia’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Graves—”
Before she could finish, Camila was already pulling her back toward the living room.
“Mrs. Graves,” Sophia tried again, reaching out with her free hand toward Magnus, silently pleading.
He didn’t even look at her.
Camila led her straight down the hallway, her steps brisk and determined. Magnus followed behind them unhurriedly, hands in his pockets.
“Go,” Camila said, opening the bedroom door and pushing Sophia inside. “The room is always clean. I make sure Magnus can sleep peacefully whenever he comes home.”
She stepped back, already dismissing the matter, and flicked her hand in the air. “Go.”
Magnus followed without hesitation.
The moment they crossed the threshold, Camila reached forward and shut the door behind them.
“Stay until morning,” she called through the closed door. “Don’t go home tonight. It’s good to relive your childhood once in a while.”
And just like that, her footsteps faded down the hallway.
Sophia stared at the door, stunned.
“Mrs. Graves—!” she called out, rushing forward and pressing her palm against the wood.
No answer.
She exhaled sharply, closing her eyes as she forced herself to breathe. When she opened them again, irritation replaced her shock. She flipped around to face Magnus.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she snapped. “We could have gone home.”
Magnus only shrugged, completely unbothered. He loosened his tie as he walked deeper into the room. He tossed his suit jacket aside, draping it carelessly over the chair.
Sophia clenched her teeth.
Turning to face him, she said stiffly, “There’s only one small bed here. I’ll sleep on the floor. You can take the bed.”
Magnus paused mid-motion, fingers still at his tie. He turned around, eyes sweeping over her before his lips curled into an infuriatingly lazy smile.
“Are you afraid you’ll lose control and force yourself on me once again?”
Sophia eyes wide with disbelief.
“H-How can you—? Why do you keep bringing that up?!” she snapped, heat rushing to her ears. “Gosh… you’re so damn dramatic!”
She didn’t wait for his response. She shoved past him and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. The sharp slam of the door echoed through the quiet room.
Pressing her back against the door, she sucked in a shaky breath. Her heart pounded violently, her face burning, the sensation crawling under her skin—as if she had barely escaped something dangerous.
Outside, Magnus chuckled softly.
He watched the closed door for a moment before turning back again, calmly unbuttoning his shirt.
Sophia stayed inside far longer than necessary.
She let the water run just to have an excuse, staring at her reflection until the heat on her face finally faded. When she eventually gathered the courage to step out, half-expecting another remark—
Thankfully, he didn’t tease her again.
Instead, Magnus took his turn in the bathroom. She heard the door close, the faint sound of running water, and only then did her shoulders relax.
By the time he emerged, changed into a casual T-shirt and dark trousers, Sophia had already claimed the bed. She lay back against the pillows, one knee slightly bent, phone held loosely in one hand as videos played one after another.
Magnus cleared his throat as he stepped out, rubbing a towel through his damp hair. Acting nonchalant, he moved deeper into the room, deliberately avoiding looking at her. Setting the towel aside, he crossed the room as if she didn’t exist.
But despite himself, his eyes drifted toward her.
She wasn’t paying him the slightest bit of attention. She hadn’t even looked up.
Her lashes were lowered, lips faintly curved in amusement at whatever was playing on her screen. Completely relaxed and absorbed. As if he weren’t standing just a few feet away.
That irritated him.
More than irritated him.
His jaw tightened, the muscle jumping visibly as he watched her thumb scroll again.
He walked over and stopped behind the bed, looming over her face. Then he leaned down, bracing one hand on the wooden bedframe, craning his neck toward her phone.
She sensed something looming above her face, and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest in shock.
She jerked upright, her hand flying up on instinct—and her forehead slammed straight into his nose.
“Fuck!” Magnus hissed, stumbling back with a sharp inhale, one hand clamping over his face as pain shot through him.
“What the hell, Sophia?” he snapped, voice tight, muffled behind his palm.
“I—I’m sorry!” Sophia blurted out instantly, panic flashing across her face. She tossed her phone aside and scrambled upright on the bed. “You scared the life out of me!”
He lowered his hand slowly, eyes narrowed, then pulled out his phone and switched to the front camera. Tilting his head, he inspected his nose.
A long red scratch stretched across the bridge.
He looked up at her and pointed accusingly at his face. “Look what you did. What if this leaves a scar?”
Her expression crumpled with guilt. “I’ll take care of it,” she said quickly. “I promise.”
Before he could respond, she slid off the bed and hurried into the bathroom. Cabinets opened and closed in a rush. Moments later, she returned with the first-aid kit clutched to her chest.
Magnus sat down on the edge of the bed, legs spread slightly as she approached.
Sophia stepped closer, instinctively positioning herself between his knees.
She bent forward, her movements careful now.
One hand came up to cup his face, thumb resting lightly near his cheekbone, steadying him.
Her other hand dipped into the kit, fingers gentle as she applied the medicine to the scratch.
Her touch was light. Focused.
Magnus didn’t look away for even a second. Watching her tend to him stirred something unfamiliar in his chest—something warm, unsettling, and stubbornly insistent.
“All done,” she whispered, pulling her hand away.
Her eyes flickered—just for a moment—toward his Adam’s apple, then up to his face, and finally into his eyes. Heat bloomed across her cheeks the instant she realized how intently he was watching her. Flustered, she turned quickly, almost fumbling as she hurried to put the medicine box away.
Magnus rose, closing the gap between them in a few long strides. He took the first-aid box from her hands, his fingers brushing hers briefly. “I’ll put it back,” he said casually, though his voice carried an unspoken edge. Without another word, he headed into the bathroom.
Sophia exhaled a long, shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, squeezing her eyes shut. Her shoulders loosened as she hurried back to the bed and collapsed against the pillows.
A while later, Magnus emerged. The room was now quiet.
Sophia was already asleep.
He froze, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “How does this woman fall asleep so easily? I was gone for barely five damn minutes,” he muttered under his breath, voice low and tight.
A sharp exhale escaped him, frustration coiling in his chest. His fingers gripped the hem of his T-shirt, tugging it off in one smooth motion and tossing it aside without ceremony.
He climbed onto the bed, stretching out on his back, hands tucked behind his head. His eyes traced the ceiling, but sleep was nowhere to be found. Every muscle in his body was taut.
The room was dim, heavy with silence, broken only by the soft, even rhythm of Sophia’s breathing.
Magnus turned his head and his eyes fell on her. He let out a sharp exhale, his jaw tight, fingers flexing against the sheets. He shifted, restless, rolling slightly onto his side, unable to ignore the ache of being so near yet so apart from her.
Finally, on a reckless impulse, he slid an arm around her waist, tugging her closer.
The moment her warmth pressed against him, the tension in his chest began to ease.
His cheek settled against the curve of her neck, her steady breath brushing over him, and finally, his muscles unclenched, his body sinking into her softness.
In the morning, Sophia’s eyes fluttered open first. The first sensation she registered was a heavy weight draped across her waist.
Half-asleep, she shifted slightly—and froze.
An arm was locked around her, holding her close. Magnus was asleep, his head resting against her chest, body pressed tightly against hers, arm still gripping her waist.
Her heart thudded, warmth pooled in her chest, spreading in a way that left her both stunned and strangely comforted. She didn’t move. She couldn’t.
He was… impossibly handsome.