His Perfect Trap, My Perfect Revenge

Chapter 10

Sabrina wrapped her arms around Magnus's neck, her voice a sultry whisper. "Magnus, you don't have to be shy with me."

She pressed closer, her breath warm against his ear. "We're both adults. It's fine." Rising onto her toes, her lips brushed his skin. "I love you," she murmured before sealing the words with a kiss.

A shudder ran through Magnus at her touch. Her lips were warm, insistent, and when her hand slid downward, he let out a shaky breath. His restraint crumbled. With a groan, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her back with equal hunger.

Time blurred—until a crack of thunder split the air, lightning flashing through the window, freezing them both.

The jagged light cast eerie shadows across the room. Magnus blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. Without warning, he pushed Sabrina away and grabbed his clothes, dressing in a hurry.

"Sabrina, I have to go. Stay here." His voice was firm, urgent.

Before she could argue, he was already out the door.

Stunned, Sabrina clenched her fists, watching him leave.

He never used to treat her like this. Something had changed.

A cold dread coiled in her stomach. She didn't hesitate—throwing on her clothes, she ran after him.

By the time Magnus reached the Colon estate, the storm had unleashed its fury. Rain poured in sheets, thunder booming like war drums.

His jaw tightened as he stepped out of the car. Another flash of lightning, and his chest constricted.

Chelsea had always been terrified of storms.

Every time thunder rolled in, she'd curl up against him like a frightened kitten.

But now… he wasn't there. And she was alone. What if she was scared?

The thought sent him sprinting to the front door.

But when he threw it open, his hope shattered.

The house was dark. Silent.

Not even the hallway light was on.

Normally, if he came home late, Chelsea would leave a light burning for him. Sometimes she'd fall asleep waiting on the couch.

Tonight? Nothing. No light. No Chelsea. Just crushing silence.

Lightning illuminated the empty living room, making the emptiness feel even more suffocating.

Without thinking, Magnus bolted upstairs and flung open the bedroom door—only to be met with a cold draft.

The room was empty.

His chest tightened. She wasn't here?

He yanked out his phone. 3:00 AM.

Where the hell would she be at this hour?

Panic rising, he tore through every room. Nothing.

Just then, the housekeeper, Miranda Watts, shuffled out, rubbing her eyes.

"Sir? What are you doing back?"

"Where's Chelsea?"

Miranda blinked. "She's not with you? She came home earlier to pack some things. I asked where she was going, but she didn't answer. I assumed you two were leaving together since you weren't home either."

Magnus's stomach dropped. "She left with luggage?"

"Yes! I thought you were both going somewhere."

His voice died in his throat.

Wordlessly, he turned back to the bedroom.

Staring at the empty space where she should've been, Magnus finally pulled out his phone and dialed Chelsea's number.