Chapter 12 Sister? #3
But Magnus’s stare was fixed on Elias and Sophia and on the bag in her hands. The luxury brand’s unmistakable logo gleamed under the lights, announcing without subtlety that whatever was inside was outrageously expensive.
His eyes darkened further.
Finally, Magnus spoke. “No.” He shifted his arm, trying to push Celia away. “It was an accident.”
But she tightened her grip instead, clinging to him even more stubbornly.
Magnus’s fingers curled at his side, frustration flashing briefly across his face before it disappeared behind his controlled, icy calm.
His eyes met Sophia’s as he said coldly. “I’m leaving first.”
He didn’t wait for a response.
Celia clung to him as he turned, her fingers digging into his arm as he strode out of the restaurant.
His steps were fast and forceful, his shoulders rigid with barely restrained rage.
His jaw was clenched hard, the muscle ticking as he turned his face slightly away, as if trying—and failing—to hide what burned across his expression.
Sophia stood frozen, her gaze locked on his retreating back. She watched him disappear, her chest tightening, disappointment and hurt settling heavy on her face. She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath.
At that moment, Celia suddenly turned her head.
Her eyes met Sophia’s.
She smiled.
It was soft. Innocent. Perfectly sweet.
And Sophia recognized it instantly for what it was.
It wasn’t kindness. It was a warning. An insult dressed as grace.
“What’s going on?” Elias asked, his gaze shifting to Emma.
Emma hesitated before answering. Her eyes flicked between Sophia and Elias, then briefly past them—toward Magnus and the woman beside him. Her lips parted, then pressed together again, as if weighing her words.
“There were rumors in the past,” she said carefully. “People used to talk about Magnus and Celia. Nothing was ever confirmed… but everyone said there was something going on between them.”
Sophia’s stomach sank.
Seeing them so close. Celia clinging to him like that.
The pieces fell together too easily.
“So…” Sophia said slowly. Her voice tightened despite her effort to keep it steady. “She’s his ex-girlfriend?”
The words tasted bitter on her tongue.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “No wonder,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Every time we got close… he kept saying he isn’t interested in me.”
Elias studied her face, noticing the tension he wasn’t used to seeing on her. “Sophia,” he asked carefully, “are you… concerned about something?”
Her eyes flickered back to him. She forced a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“No,” she said quietly. “Just something I forgot to take care of.”
She stepped back. “I’ll have dinner with you guys later.”
Before anyone could stop her, Sophia turned and walked away, her steps quickening as she left the restaurant.
***
Outside, Magnus stormed across the street toward his car, his strides long and aggressive. His jaw was locked tight, veins standing out at his temple, fury burning in his eyes.
Behind him, Timothy hurried after him, struggling to manage Celia, who was half-drunk and barely walking straight. She leaned heavily against him, mumbling, forcing Timothy to practically drag her along as they rushed to keep up.
Magnus didn’t slow down.
He didn’t even look back once.
The moment he reached the car, he stopped.
Then he spun around—
BAM.
His fist crashed into the boundary wall, the impact cracking through the quiet night.
“She’s my wife!” he snarled, his voice rough with fury. “And she’s out there riding in another man’s goddamn car. Taking gifts—smiling at him, laughing like our marriage doesn’t even fucking exist?”
His chest rose and fell violently.
“And with me?” His voice dropped, edged with something uglier. “She bolts the second she wakes up. Can’t even stand sleeping in the same fucking bed with me?”
A harsh, angry laugh tore from his throat.
“Damn it!”
He wrenched the car door open and shoved himself inside. The door slammed shut, metal rattling from the force. A heartbeat later, the locks snapped into place.
The engine roared to life.
Timothy froze, surprise flashing across his face as he struggled to keep Celia upright. She was barely conscious, her weight sagging against him as he dragged her closer to the car.
He stepped up to the driver’s side and bent slightly, peering through the window.
“Mr. Graves?” he called cautiously. “Uh… Miss Thompson can’t drive. She’s very drunk.”
He reached for the door handle, intending to help Celia inside.
It didn’t budge.
Timothy paused, then glanced back at Magnus through the window.
“Mr. Graves… the car is locked.”
Magnus didn’t even glance at him.
“Get her a cab or something,” he snapped coldly.
Timothy hesitated, glancing at Celia as her head lolled to the side. “I—I don’t know where she lives.”
“Then get her a hotel room. I don’t give a fuck,” Magnus said harshly. “I’m leaving. Take care of this mess.”
The car began to move—
Suddenly, Celia’s eyes flew open.
“Magnus?” she slurred.
She stumbled forward, swaying dangerously, and grabbed onto the car door, clinging to it as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. Her fingers scraped against the window as she leaned closer.
“Where are you going?” she mumbled, her words thick and unclear. “Don’t leave like this… why don’t you just drop me off? It’s not far…”
She fumbled for the handle, trying to pull the door open.
That was when Magnus snapped.
His head whipped toward her, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. His eyes burned with fury as he leaned forward slightly.
“Celia,” he growled, voice low and lethal, “do you take me for a fucking fool?”
Her face fell. Confusion flashed across her expression, followed by panic.
Magnus didn’t stop.
“You made up some bullshit excuse about signing a deal just to meet me,” he continued, rage pouring out unchecked. “And then you get drunk off two fucking glasses of champagne?”