S2- The Deal

S2- The Deal

At dawn, the storm finally subsided. Senna opened her swollen eyes and found herself lying against the man's broad, solid chest.

Her heart sank instantly.

She had actually allowed herself to weep uncontrollably in the arms of her enemy last night-and even cried herself to sleep. How could she have sought comfort in the warmth of the man who had wronged her? She shouldn't have.

Senna clenched her fists slightly, berating herself over and over.

Magnus was still asleep, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist-not so forcefully as to hurt her, but firm enough that she couldn't break free.

Senna raised her head slightly and looked at his closed eyes and strikingly handsome face. Her gaze narrowed, a sharp, murderous glint flashing through her eyes.

The man who had framed her and caused her brother's death was right in front of her. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance for revenge.

She had to do it. She had stayed by his side for this very purpose.

Gritting her teeth, Senna reached into the pillow, her fingers closing around the cold steel of a sharp dagger. A glint of cold light flickered as she slowly aimed the tip at the man's heart.

As long as she plunged it in, she could avenge both herself and her brother. No hesitation.

The tip of the blade inched closer to the steady rise and fall of his chest, following the rhythm of his heartbeat. But her hand trembled. Cold sweat seeped from her palm, dampening the hilt within moments.

"Magnus, this is what you owe me," she whispered. Her swollen eyes were misted with tears, her heart burning as if engulfed in flames. She shut her eyes, clenched the dagger tightly, and drove it down toward his heart.

"You won't hit my heart if your eyes are closed."

A deep, hoarse voice suddenly sounded beside her.

Senna's eyes flew open in shock, meeting a pair of abyssal black eyes-so deep they seemed to pull her in.

A strong, masculine hand had caught her wrist in an iron grip. The dagger's sharp tip hovered right over his heart. Her pulse pounded wildly as she gasped for breath, her entire hand shaking violently.

"You cunning bastard! You were awake this whole time! Were you playing me for a fool?" she growled.

"I wasn't toying with you. If stabbing me can take away your pain, then do it."

The pain she bore was because of him-let her end it with her own hands. Magnus slowly closed his grief-filled eyes.

Was he seriously just waiting for her to stab him?

Impossible. That wasn't his style. He had always been ruthless, never showing mercy to his enemies. This had to be some sort of trick.

"You have only one chance. If you want to kill me for revenge, don't hesitate," Magnus murmured, gripping her hand firmly. His deep voice carried a hypnotic pull, like the whisper of a devil tempting her.

"Magnus, do you think this will make me hesitate? Do you think I won't do it? I'll kill you-mmph-"

Senna clenched her teeth and summoned all her strength, ready to drive the blade into his heart. But just as she did, a violent wave of nausea surged up from her stomach. Her face paled, and she abruptly let go of the dagger, leaping off the bed and rushing into the bathroom.

"Senna, what's wrong?"

Magnus quickly maneuvered his wheelchair forward, entering the bathroom. He saw her crouched over the toilet, vomiting repeatedly. His heart clenched in pain as he reached out and patted her back.

"Did you eat something bad last night?" he asked worriedly. He remembered-she always threw up when she ate something that didn't sit well with her.

Senna finally stopped retching. She turned her pale face toward him, tears shimmering in her watery eyes.

"Magnus, I hate you. I really, really hate you."

"I know." The pain in his chest was suffocating, yet Magnus reached out, gently caressing her pale face. "Let's make a deal."

Senna slapped his hand away forcefully and took three steps back as if he were carrying a disease. Her voice was icy. "What deal?"

Suppressing the overwhelming sense of loss that nearly drowned him, Magnus rasped, "Give us one week to get along. If, by the end of it, you still want to kill me, I'll hand my life over to you. You can do whatever you want with it."

Senna eyed him warily and scoffed. "Magnus, what trick are you playing now?"

He lowered his gaze and let out a low chuckle. "Take it as a trick if you want. Either way, you're in my hands now. If I wanted to do something to you, you wouldn't be able to resist."

She knew he was telling the truth, but that only made her angrier. "No matter how much time passes, my desire to kill you won't change. I hope you'll keep your promise-one week from now, you'll hand your life over to me."

"Deal." Magnus's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Now go freshen up and have breakfast with me."

Senna sneered in disgust. "I have no appetite when you're around. I might just throw up."

"We agreed to get along for a week, yet you're already refusing to cooperate?" His brows lifted slightly, challenging her.

She shot him a glare, regretting how quickly she'd agreed.

"I'll be waiting in the dining room." Magnus maneuvered his wheelchair out of the room.

Senna lifted her head, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were swollen and red, her face pale and haggard. She tied her hair up and splashed cold water on her face, trying to clear her mind.

Downstairs, Magnus sat at the dining table, sipping coffee while reading the newspaper. When he saw her appear, he signaled the servants to bring out the steaming breakfast.

"Sit here with me." He patted the seat beside him-the spot reserved for the lady of the house. His gaze was gentle, but the command in his voice left no room for refusal.

Senna clenched her fists and said coldly, "Aren't you afraid Astrid will be upset if I sit here?"

"What does her anger have to do with me?" Magnus caught her wrist, applying just enough pressure to force her into the seat. His indifference was absolute.

The mansion had already been decorated for an upcoming wedding. Anyone with eyes could see that a grand event was about to take place. Just how long did he plan to keep pretending?

She glanced at the table, filled with all her favorite dishes, yet she had no appetite. Picking up a spoon, she took a sip of cream soup before asking coldly, "Magnus, what exactly are you trying to do?"

If he didn't care about Astrid, why was he marrying her?

His deep eyes locked onto hers, his voice soft. "If I said I did all this because I want your forgiveness, would you believe me?"

Senna's breath caught, her heart pounding violently. Her hand trembled slightly as she gripped the spoon, and the intensity of his gaze unsettled her.

Panic surged within her, and she raised her voice. "Magnus, stop trying to manipulate me! I will never forgive you. In one week, I will personally kill you!"

Her flustered outburst only seemed to improve his mood. A low chuckle escaped his lips.

"What are you laughing at?" she snapped, both embarrassed and furious.

Magnus didn't answer. Instead, he calmly served her a plate of her favorite food, making it impossible for her to vent her anger.