Chapter 84

Chapter 84
Magnus looked up from his MacBook when Daniel stepped into the office, an iPad pressed tight to his chest.

“Good morning, sir,” Daniel greeted.

“Morning.” Magnus shut the laptop halfway, sensing his tone. “Anything new?”

“Yes, sir. I finally got something on Xavier Harper.” Daniel’s face was grave. “And it’s bad. Really bad.”

Magnus closed the MacBook fully. All his focus snapped onto Daniel at once. He had told himself not to be suspicious anymore, but he had still asked Daniel to dig deeper—just to be sure Xavier was really as spotless as he appeared.

Now Daniel claimed he’d found something “really bad.”

“Go on,” Magnus said.

“Xavier Harper is a registered sex offender in New Zealand,” Daniel revealed.

Magnus shot to his feet. “What? Are you sure you pulled the right Xavier Harper?”

Xavier. Vivienne’s close friend from the orphanage. The polite man who made homemade wine. A sex offender?

“Yes, sir,” Daniel said firmly. “I cross-checked several times. I couldn’t believe it myself at first. You should see this.” He handed Magnus the iPad.

Magnus gripped it hard, eyes narrowing as he read.

“Xavier Harper, a seasoned neurosurgeon at Ludington Memorial Hospital, was found guilty of raping a minor, who happened to be his patient, in court today.”

Magnus felt his chest burn. He read it again, slower this time, rage rising with every word. No photo of him was included—only the poor girl’s face splashed across the news.

“What is this?” Magnus snarled. His voice shook. “What happened to victim protection? And why is he still practicing medicine after that?”

“He must have settled the family privately,” Daniel said. “It’s strange how he’s living comfortably after destroying a child’s life.”

Magnus set the iPad down before he smashed it. His fists pressed together so tightly his knuckles went white. Every thought ended in the same place: confronting Xavier.

Call Vivienne, he ordered himself.

He dialed.

“The number you’re trying to call is currently unavailable. Please try again later,” the robotic voice said.

Magnus’s frown deepened. He tried again. And again. Five times. The same mechanical answer each time. His chest tightened.

He dialed Alina.

She answered on the first ring. “Good evening, sir.”

“Evening, Alina. Could you hand Vivienne the phone? I’ve been trying to reach her but her line isn’t connecting.”

“Ma’am Vivienne hasn’t returned from work yet, sir,” Alina replied.

Magnus glanced at the wall clock. 5:17 p.m. Vivienne was usually home before four.

He remembered. She had mentioned stopping by Xavier’s for wine.

“Alright. Thanks. The twins are home, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He ended the call quickly.

“What next, sir?” Daniel asked.

Magnus’s worry turned heavy, cold. He didn’t even know Xavier’s address. His jaw clenched.

“I have it,” Daniel said quickly, as if reading his mind. “Maple Estate, block 7, apartment 25.”

Magnus grabbed his phone and car keys. “Good. Brilliant.”

“Drive safe, sir,” Daniel said as Magnus stormed toward the elevator.

Minutes later, Magnus was in his car, speeding out of the company grounds. The city blurred by as dread pressed harder on his chest.

“Please be fine, my love,” he muttered. “I’m coming for you.”

Fifteen minutes later, he was outside Xavier’s building. He moved fast, through the entrance, up the stairs, until he stood before the right door. His fists hammered the wood.

“Open the door, you bastard!” His heart pounded so hard it hurt.

No answer.

He slammed his fists again. “I know you’re in there, Xavier! Open this door before you regret it!”

Still nothing.

His anger snapped. He drove his shoulder into the door. Wood cracked. Again. It splintered and gave way. Magnus shoved through—

—and froze at the sight.

Vivienne. Half-dressed. Unconscious on the sofa. Shirt gone. Pants unzipped. Her head lolling to the side. Too still.

Magnus’s vision went red.

“Useless pervert,” he spat.

He seized Xavier by the collar and flung him to the floor. Xavier wheezed, still smiling that sick smile.

“Why do you always ruin things?” Xavier coughed. “Did you have to come in now?”

Magnus dragged him across the floor and smashed his head into the wall. The crack echoed. Blood trickled down Xavier’s face. He grinned wider.

“You’re selfish, Magnus,” he taunted. “How can you keep a goddess like Vivienne to yourself? Why not loan her to me? I’ve craved her since before she even—”

“You’re sick,” Magnus cut him off, voice flat. “Not wasting words.”

He yanked off his tie, tied Xavier’s wrists to the heavy table leg, then turned back to Vivienne. Her chest rose—faint, but there. Relief swept through him. His knees nearly gave.

“Stay with me, baby,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

Xavier’s voice slithered behind him. “That girl in the painting,” he said, blood dripping from his nose as he nodded to the framed portrait on the wall. The blonde child, blue eyes staring at a butterfly. “I had her in the ICU. She was so tight. Perfect. I wish I could find another like her.”

Magnus didn’t think. His hand closed on a heavy vase. He smashed it across Xavier’s skull. The vase shattered. Xavier slumped, groaning as blood pooled.

Magnus stood over him, chest heaving. “You’ll rot in jail. I’ll make sure of it.”

He turned back to Vivienne, shrugged off his jacket, and wrapped it around her. He wanted to carry her out now. But the law needed to see this.

He pulled out his phone.

His thumb hovered only a second.

Then he dialed Sheriffield.