Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 5

Victor shot him a cold, dismissive glance.

He strode into the living room, grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the bar, and poured himself a full glass. Lifting it to his lips, he downed it in one go. The burn of the liquor finally cut through the syrupy afterglow of the night, jolting him awake.

Finley let out a teasing click of his tongue.

"Well, look at you. Guess a satisfied man doesn't need the little help I brought, huh? Tell me, who's the woman who finally managed to pluck our untouchable prince off his pedestal?"

Finley was dying of curiosity.

After all, Victor had a reputation in the business world for being ice-cold, ruthless, and sharp as a blade. Behind closed doors, though, he was nothing like the rest of their crowd.

For Finley and his friends, blowing off steam meant sipping drinks, flirting with actresses and models, maybe splurging on a wild night if the mood struck. Victor joined in occasionally, but he always craved something with a little more edge- racing, surfing, skydiving, boxing. Women, to him, were just a hassle he didn't need.

Finley was about to give up hope of getting an answer when Victor set his empty glass on the counter. With a flick of his finger, he spun the tumbler, sending it whirling and scattering prisms of light across the marble surface.

His eyes were dark, unreadable. Casually, he said, "Isadora."

Finley froze, caught off guard.

Of all people-her?

rounds in high society lately. Not so much because

had been making headlines for throwing a lavish wedding, all in pursuit of his longtime crush, Elise. The whole city was

had heard the

purpose? If you wanted to get even with him, I'd have thought Elise would be your type. Isadora's been out of favor for

enough to cut through steel. Finley suddenly felt a cold sweat run

scoffed. "Magnus? You really think I'd waste my time on

laugh. "Of course not, you've got better things to do. It's just...well, Isadora is

to be the other

dare say that

his eyes. "You sure know how to run

Did Victor actually want

you might not have a tongue left to wag." Alright,

later, a private jet soared upward into the

had worn off, leaving her aching and sore, as if

of a helicopter overhead shook her

pushing herself upright. The silk sheets slipped down, exposing pale skin covered in

with Victor. Worse-she'd

For a moment, she had no idea how she was