Chapter 175: Not important

Pushing open the heavy front door, we stepped into the bright, spacious grand hall of the mansion, only to be immediately intercepted by an exceptionally furious Sayan, who nearly collided with us. He looked disheveled and wild, as if he had spent at least twenty-four hours trapped in a dungeon being systematically tormented without a second to catch his breath.

"Magnus, I called you more than ten times! I almost went completely out of my mind!" Sayan exhaled sharply, nervously running a hand through his already messy hair.

"You’re acting like a jealous wife, Sayan. Don’t try to make my woman jealous—my heart belongs entirely to her." Magnus chuckled, casting a warm glance at me as he wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders.

At those unexpected words, splotches of indignant red rapidly flared across Sayan’s face. I couldn’t help myself and let out a genuine laugh, because from the outside, the scene was undeniably hilarious.

But my smile faded quickly. Instinctively wrapping my arm around Magnus’s torso and leaning closer to his massive frame, I felt his muscles turn to absolute stone, taut as a steel cable. He was merely pretending to be relaxed.

"If this gets into the media, they won’t just eat us alive—they’ll chew us up down to the bone! You didn’t..." Sayan cut himself off mid-sentence, though Magnus hadn’t uttered a single word. He merely narrowed his gray eyes in a subtle motion, dropping the temperature in the foyer by several degrees.

"Did something happen? Is it because of that man, Max?" I asked quietly. Rising onto my tiptoes, I tried to peer into Magnus’s face, needing desperately to look straight into his eyes to gauge the extent of the danger.

"For fuck’s sake, Magnus, he’s a member of the government! Tell me you didn’t do anything to him..." Sayan clutched his head, staring at his friend in absolute horror.

"Jane, go check on Matthias. I’ll join you shortly," Magnus instructed, his tone as impossibly soft as the situation allowed. Unclasping my hand from his side with gentle care, he pressed a weightless kiss to the crown of my head before gesturing toward his private study with a nod to Sayan.

The sudden distance pricked beneath my ribs. He was trying to lock me in a safe bubble again, failing to understand that the unknown frightened me far more than the bitterest truth.

"Magnus, I want to know," I said firmly, lifting my chin with stubborn resolve. I took a step after him, refusing to yield so easily.

"It’s not something you need to worry about, Jane. If it becomes truly important, I will tell you. For now, don’t stress over trifles—Sayan is simply overreacting." He paused at the study door, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Do you promise you’ll tell me?" I asked stubbornly, folding my arms across my chest as I bored a demanding stare into the broad expanse of his back.

He didn’t turn around for several agonizing seconds, seemingly weighing something in his mind while the silence in the corridor turned almost tangible, pressing heavily on my shoulders. When he finally turned back to face me, his unreadable gaze was unsettling, his lips curved into a flawless smile that failed to reach his eyes.

"Of course, darling. If there is ever anything you truly need to worry about, you will be the first to know."

He disappeared behind the heavy door of his study alongside Sayan, leaving me with the sinking impression that he was merely attempting to soothe me—and that I wouldn’t learn a damn thing in the end.

It felt as though he was using every available method to wall me off from any negative information, erecting impenetrable fortress walls around me.

But I deserved to know; after all, this concerned me most of all. I couldn’t just sit idly by, clutching a blanket while he fought every battle alone. I had no power or political leverage to offer him, but I had every right to at least be aware of the gathering storm.

Turning on my heel, I trudged down the hall, feeling a dull irritation flare inside me, mingled with a strange, creeping physical exhaustion. Stepping into my son’s spacious bedroom, I paused on the threshold as a deeply comforting scene unfolded before me, easing my inner turmoil.

Matthias and Caramel were sitting right on the plush rug, watching with rapt attention as a tiny turtle slowly but surely marched along a path laid out in food pellets. My son had meticulously arranged the treats into a star shape, which the reptile was navigating, devouring its reward step by step. Both Matthias and the hound trailed its every movement with genuine, breathless fascination.

"What are you two up to?" I asked quietly, gliding into the room and sitting beside them on the rug, drawing my knees up to my chest.

"We’re watching the turtle eat! Grandpa Adam said they have long necks, but she won’t show hers," Matthias babbled enthusiastically, stumbling over his words as his small fingers gently nudged a pellet into line. "And guess what? She can’t shed her shell like a crab! Grandpa and I watched a show where crabs hid in jars and bottle caps... I forgot what else, but turtles can’t do that. It’s a bummer."

"That’s true, sweetheart, though not all crabs can swap shells either," I replied gently, rubbing my son’s back. The cozy warmth radiating off him acted as a soothing balm for my frayed nerves. "Is Adam still here?"

"Yup! He went to find Derek. He’s coming back with sandwiches so we can keep watching," Matthias whispered, his enchanted eyes glued to the stubborn little turtle reaching the center of the star.

I watched for a moment longer as my son earnestly arranged a fresh batch of food and carefully pulled a second turtle from the terrarium, letting out a soft smile. Pushing myself up, I left the nursery and headed downstairs to the kitchen, desperate for a glass of cold water. My throat had suddenly turned bone-dry, and a strange, hot wave surged through my body.

Pushing open the door, I entered the kitchen. Adam and Derek were seated at the long island while the chef bustled by the stove, deftly prepping sandwich ingredients. They had been conferring in low, intense tones, but the moment I walked in, Derek snapped his mouth shut. He gave a skittish nod in greeting and immediately fixed his eyes on his cup, seemingly terrified that a wrathful Magnus would materialize behind me to make good on his deadly threats.