Chapter 13 Empty Threats #2
“Of course,” she sneered. “Because you’re the goddess of kindness, blessing everyone with your generosity.”
Celia pouted, her face twisting into a pitiful, wronged expression.
“I just don’t want others to feel bad,” she shot back, irritation creeping into her voice. “It’s you who should do better. We’re all colleagues. How can you be so indifferent to them?”
Tina let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Oh, you’re incredible,” she said mockingly. “Since you’re so kind, why didn’t you give them your personal project?” Her eyes flashed. “Instead, you gave away the one the three of us are working on.”
She shook her head in disgust. “I’ve had enough of you.”
With that, Tina turned on her heel and stormed off, fury radiating off her back.
Celia frowned, then turned to Yulia, lowering her voice defensively. “I’m not like that, Yulia. You know it, right? Don’t listen to her. I kept my private project safe in case I needed it later. I didn’t even know we’d finalize working on the one that you have.”
Yulia scoffed coldly. “Don’t fool me.” She leaned closer to the camera, eyes sharp.
“Who keeps their own project hidden but spreads someone else’s like it’s a public resource?
” Her lips curled. “Aren’t you kind-hearted?
Why shouldn’t I post an open invitation for everyone to join your private project instead?
I’ll let everyone see how generous you actually are. ”
Panic flashed across Celia’s face.
Her fingers flew across the screen. She immediately removed Yulia’s access to her private project.
“I—I don’t have it anymore,” she said quickly, forcing a nervous smile. “I already trashed it.”
Yulia let out a short, bitter laugh. “How convenient.”
She turned away from the screen and stormed off.
Just then, new faces popped onto the video call.
“Celia, I heard you have a big project. Please add me too.”
“Yeah, me too!”
Several people gathered around the laptop, voices overlapping, crowding closer.
A tense expression crept onto Celia’s face. She turned slightly away from the camera, her thoughts spiraling.
‘There are already too many people on that project. If I keep adding more, I won’t get any benefit out of it in the end.’
Her fingers rose to her lips as she bit down on them, worry clouding her face.
‘It’s not that I don’t want to help,’ she told herself desperately. ‘I just need to secure some benefits for myself too. Only then—when other projects come along—will I have more leverage. More chances to help more people.’
Behind her, the voices grew impatient.
“Celia, what are you doing?” someone snapped. “Give me access already.”
“What’s taking so long?” another voice barked. “It’s a huge project—you can add more people.”
The noise grew louder, sharper, pressing in from all sides.
Celia turned back to the screen, forcing a smile that barely held. “Everyone—please, let me talk.”
The voices quieted slightly, all eyes on her.
“I… I don’t have space for more people,” she said stiffly. “The project already has too many members.”
The reaction was instant.
“How is that possible?” someone shouted. “Didn’t you just add Riley, Greg, and Layla five minutes ago?”
“She’s lying,” another voice snapped. “That project is massive. If she added the others already, what’s the problem with adding us too?”
“Don’t be greedy, Celia!”
“Yeah, give me access—right now!”
Suddenly, one man stepped forward. “Wait. This is her office laptop, right?”
Before Celia could react, he leaned in and started scrolling through the files on the laptop.
“No—stop! What are you doing?” Celia shouted, panic rising. “I told you there’s no space—don’t touch that!”
“I found it!” the man yelled triumphantly.
People rushed closer.
“There are still plenty of slots,” another said sharply. “You can add more people. Why are you lying?”
The man shoved the mouse aside, clicked rapidly, then turned around with a grin. “Done. I gave access to everyone. Check your emails—you should’ve received the file already.”
The group erupted in celebration.
Celia’s blood ran cold.
“No—what the hell are you doing?!” she screamed. “You can’t do that! I told you—there’s no space!”
But they ignored her.
The call ended abruptly.
Celia stood there, shaking with rage and humiliation.
‘When I was friends with Magnus, everyone respected me so much,’ she thought bitterly. ‘No one dared talk to me like this.’
Her chest heaved as anger burned through her.
Huffing sharply, she shoved her phone into her purse and stormed off.
***
Magnus’s house lay in complete silence.
The night had fully settled, darkness swallowing everything around it. Not a single light was on.
Outside, Sophia sat alone on the swing, a cigarette between her fingers. The faint orange glow flared and dimmed with each slow drag she took.
The image from earlier refused to leave her mind—Celia clinging to Magnus’s arm, the two of them together in that private room. The more she replayed it, the darker her expression became, her grip tightening unconsciously around the cigarette.
‘It seems… he still hasn’t let go of his ex-girlfriend.’ Her lips pressed into a thin line. ‘They were together for so long. Maybe… he’s still in love with her.’
Lost in her thoughts, Sophia didn’t notice when headlights swept across the yard and a car came to a stop in front of the house.
Magnus sat behind the wheel, staring at the dark house. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. The anger he’d carried all night hadn’t faded—it burned just as fiercely in his eyes.
“It’s this late, and she still hasn’t come home?” he growled. “What could she possibly be talking about with that bastard for it to last all night?”
His fist slammed into the steering wheel with a dull thud.
His gaze dropped to the document lying on the passenger seat—the deed to the swimming court, already transferred into Sophia’s name.
His jaw clenched.
He grabbed the document, fingers crushing the paper as fury overtook him. With a sharp motion, he ripped it apart, tearing it into shreds and tossing them aside carelessly.
He threw open the car door, stepped out, and slammed it shut behind him. His strides were long and furious as he crossed the front yard, heading straight for the house.
Just then, something at the corner of his vision made him stop.
His steps slowed. His head turned instinctively.
Sophia.
She was sitting on the swing beneath the dim porch light, one leg lightly brushing the ground as it swayed back and forth. A cigarette glowed faintly between her fingers, smoke curling lazily into the night.
He stopped completely, his chest tightening.
So she did come back home.
His expression darkened. Turning sharply, he changed direction and stormed toward her.
Still unaware of Magnus’s presence, Sophia lifted her hand, bringing the cigarette to her lips, and took a slow inhale. The swing creaked softly.
His footsteps stopped in front of her. Her gaze dropped first, landing on the polished shoes inches from her feet, then slowly traveled upward.
His eyes were locked on the cigarette.
Without warning, he reached out, snatched it from her fingers, and flicked it to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe. “It’s bad for you to smoke.”
Her head snapped up. Their eyes collided.
He stood far too close, towering over her.
Her gaze flicked briefly to the ruined cigarette before returning to his face. She inhaled deeply, then rose to her feet, standing on her heels to face him.
“What does that have to do with you?” she said coldly. “I’m not your business.”
That only fueled his anger. His jaw tightened hard. ‘She’s already learned how to get into arguments with me now?’
Then his eyes shifted and fell on the package resting on the swing beside her.
The gift that he had seen in her hands back at the restaurant.
His eyes darkened further, fury burning hotter. ‘Why is she accepting gifts from other men when I’m still here? We haven’t even divorced yet, and she already has men chasing her tail?’
His gaze locked onto her. “Sophia Magnus Graves,” he said darkly, “have you forgotten that you’re still my wife?”
The next second, his hand shot out. His fingers closed around her throat and he yanked her forward.
Before she could gasp, his mouth was on hers.
His lips captured hers completely, taking her lower lip into his mouth with bruising force.
He kissed her hard, his mouth moving against hers in rough, demanding strokes. His lips pressed, pulled, sealed over hers, as if he was trying to erase every word she’d said, every man she’d looked at.
She felt the scrape of his breath against her skin, the heat of him so close.
His mouth tilted, angling to deepen the kiss, his lips dragging slowly before closing over hers again—biting lightly, then soothing it with the firm slide of his mouth.
There was no tenderness in it, only possession, fury, and something dangerously close to desperation.
Her breath broke apart beneath his, her senses spinning as his lips lingered, claimed, withdrew just enough to pull her back in again—leaving her dizzy, shaken, robbed of air.
She shoved hard at his shoulder.
The contact broke.
Her heels scraped against the ground as she stumbled back a step, barely steadying herself. Her head snapped up, eyes blazing, chest rising sharply as she sucked in air—anger and shock burning just as fiercely as the heat he’d left behind.
“Are you out of your mind?!” she cried out, breathing heavily.
Before she could retreat further, his hand shot out. He seized her shoulders and yanked her back against him, fingers digging in. Their bodies collided, leaving barely an inch of space between them.
“We still have more than a month before the divorce,” he growled lowly, fury vibrating through his voice. “And you’ve already found your next fucking husband?”
Her breath caught as she stared up at him.
His eyes were bloodshot—burning, raw, furious.
Is he talking about Elias?
Is he… jealous?
The realization only poured fuel onto her anger.
The image of Celia clinging to him not even an hour ago was still fresh in her mind. He was the one sneaking around with his ex. He was the one allowing her to hang all over him. And now he had the audacity to act like this?
Her teeth clenched.
With a sharp movement, she grabbed his wrists and tore his hands off her shoulders, twisting out of his grasp again.
“And isn’t that the same for you, Mr. Graves?” she shot back, her voice cutting. “Didn’t you already find your next wife?”
His face darkened instantly.
“What?” His voice sharpened, a deep frown carving itself between his brows. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I don’t have time to explain every little thing to you,” she said, dragging in a breath, forcing her voice steady even as her glare intensified. “We have just a few weeks left before the contract expires. So what right do you have to care who my next husband is?”
Magnus’s jaw clenched hard.
His temper finally snapped. His jaw clenched hard as he stared at her, a finger lifting as if to lash out with words—only to drop halfway, his expression twisting with restrained fury.
“So this is who you are?” His voice was cold, edged with open disdain. “You finally showed your true face.”
His gaze raked over her, sharp and unforgiving. “You realized you couldn’t win me over, so you turned to another rich man instead?”
His lips curled slightly, the expression cruel. “Is clinging to men all you know how to do?” He leaned in just enough for the words to sting. “Is that all you can do with your damn life?”
Sophia’s hands tightened into fists.
The anger on her face drained away, replaced by something far colder—serious, piercing. When she lifted her head, her stare cut straight through him.
The air between them seemed to chill as their eyes met.
“Since you think so,” she said slowly, her voice calm to the point of emptiness, “I’ll make sure you’re not proven wrong.”
Something in him snapped.
Magnus’s jaw clenched hard, fury surging as a dark, dangerous light settled into his eyes. Without warning, his hand shot out. He grabbed the back of her head, fingers sliding into her hair, tightening brutally as he yanked her toward him, forcing her to look at him.
“Sophia,” he said in a low, lethal tone, “if you dare cheat on me with another fucking asshole while I’m still your husband—”
His grip tightened.
“—I will destroy every last thing your grandmother left you.”
Her breath hitched.
For a split second, her gaze dropped. When she looked back up, fear flickered through her eyes—but it didn’t erase the hurt that followed.
“I don’t make empty threats,” he added coldly, without hesitation.
She stared at him, disbelief slowly giving way to something far more painful. Disappointment settled clearly across her face.
“You threatened me… using my grandma?”
The coldness never left his face. His expression remained hard, merciless.
“I specialize in ruining what people cherish,” he said flatly, his eyes burning into hers, “and taking every last fucking drop of joy from it—when it benefits me.”
A pause.
“Did you really think you were special?”
Then he released her abruptly.
His hand dropped from her head without warning. The sudden loss of support made her stumble back, the back of her knees hitting the edge of the swing. It creaked sharply in the silence of the night.
Her breathing was uneven now. Loud. Fast.
Magnus didn’t look at her again.
He turned on his heel and stormed away.
Moments later, a car door slammed. The engine roared to life. Tires bit into the road.
And then he was gone.
Sophia remained frozen for several seconds before her strength finally gave out. She sank slowly onto the swing, her body heavy, chest tight, hands trembling despite her effort to stay composed.
She lowered her head, her voice barely audible as she whispered to herself,
“If my grandma had known that she was marrying me to such a cold man…”
A breath shook out of her.
“…would she have regretted it?”
The swing creaked softly as it swayed, her figure small and shaken beneath the quiet, indifferent night.