Chapter 6

MAGNUS POV —

I kept my eyes on the city through the glass wall, pretending I was more interested in the traffic below than the woman sitting quietly behind me. But the truth had been gnawing at me all weekend.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

That stupid kiss—reckless, impulsive—had stirred something in me I had no business feeling. So I did what any man who hates uncertainty would do: I looked into her. And I found out she had worked here for nearly a year. A face I must have passed countless times.

A face I apparently never truly saw until she crashed into my life.

I exhaled slowly, steadying the rhythm of my heart before turning toward her.

She sat properly—modest dress, bag held close, nothing expensive, nothing bold. She dressed like someone trying to disappear. Yet she had been impossible to ignore since the moment I first met her.

That irritated me. And I clung to that irritation because it was easier than admitting something else was happening.

“Why do you always cause a commotion wherever you go?” I asked quietly.

The hurt in her eyes was fast—quick enough that someone else would’ve missed it. But I didn’t.

“I’m not causing anything,” she said softly. “People just… take pleasure in creating problems for me.”

My jaw tightened. I didn’t like how that sounded. At all.

But I simply said, “I see.”

I walked to my desk, leaned against the edge, arms crossed, and kept my gaze steady on her.

“Now tell me,” I said, tone even

She blinked as though the question startled her. “Tell you… what, sir?”

“The reason the second floor looked like a marketplace the moment I stepped into HR,” I clarified.

She swallowed and dropped her eyes to her hands. Then she inhaled deeply—gathering courage—and lifted her gaze back to mine. There was something raw in her expression. Something honest.

“I was dismissed from the company without any proper explanation,” she said. “So I came to collect my dismissal settlement. But HR told me I had a record of misconduct. That my computer was used to send explicit photos and… Rated activities.”

Her cheeks reddened at the last words.

“I never did any of that,” she added quickly. “I did my job diligently.”

Right then, my computer beeped. I straightened, walked around the desk, and opened the file that had been forwarded.

Photographs. Explicit ones.

Sent from her system to her Ex, my brother-in-law.

I turned my gaze back to Aria. She stood stiffly, fingers gripping her bag—nervous, but not guilty. Her discomfort felt too genuine to be faked.

“When you said ‘rated activities’…” I said slowly, “…you meant this.” I asked, sliding the screen of the computer towards her.

She nodded hard—too hard.

“Mr. Magnus, please believe me,” she said. “I didn’t send anything. I don’t even watch porn.”

I don’t know why that part stuck with me. But it did.

“You don’t?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“No,” she said simply. Conviction in her voice. No shame. Just truth as she stared straight at me.

I studied her. A woman who looked young, uncertain, fragile in some ways—yet spoke with surprising firmness. And wasn’t afraid to hold my gaze.

Interesting.

“Tell me something,” I said. “In all this, you didn’t mention you were dating one of my highest-paid staff. And he happens to be my brother-in-law.”

She froze. The silence between us thickened.

A strange, sharp emotion twisted in my chest. Jealousy. God help me.

“Yes,” she finally whispered. “We dated.”

She hesitated, then murmured—barely audible, but I caught every word:

“And it’s something I wish I never did.”

I don’t know why that eased something inside me. But it did.

She suddenly straightened, as though realizing something. Then she stood from the chair and stepped toward me—slow, careful, almost hesitant.

Her eyes lifted to mine. And for a moment, the room felt too still.

Something about the way she looked at me wasn’t loud or flirtatious. It was quiet. Searching. Almost like she was trying to understand me the way I was trying to understand her.

“Mr. Magnus,” she said softly, voice warm but steady.

My conscience told me to put distance between us, but my body didn’t move. I just watched her, watched the way her fingers brushed the edge of my desk as she neared.

“I want something from you,” she said—no seduction, no playfulness. Just honesty layered with nervous determination.

She stopped only a step away from me.

I felt my heartbeat once—hard.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice lower than before, unable to look away from her lips, her eyes, the tremble she was trying to hide.

She drew in a breath, gathered courage, and opened her mouth to speak—