Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 72

Isadora, it seemed, was no fool.

On the contrary, she understood business operations better than most of them.

Valery, on the other hand, had just been called out by Isadora in front of everyone. Her face flushed an ugly shade of purple, the kind that only comes from stifled humiliation.

Valery wasn't just some ordinary employee-she was a senior figure, one of the founding members of the Vaughan Group. Isadora, who hadn't even been in the business as long as Valery had been alive, actually had the nerve to question her competence.

Valery's brows knit together, her voice tight with anger.

"Ms. Vaughan, what makes you so sure we haven't made an effort? If every store performed this poorly and we bailed them out each time, do you think the mall would survive? Why don't you stick to shuffling papers in your office and leave the on-the-ground management to those of us who've been around a while?"

Her words were a not-so-subtle dig, implying that Isadora was just an armchair executive with no real experience, and she ought to stop meddling.

Isadora gave a cold, dismissive laugh, her gaze sweeping over Valery with icy indifference.

a detailed spreadsheet of this year's promotional activities

it was Valery's turn to be

was, M Boutique hadn't been included in any of the mall's events this year. In fact, it hadn't been for several years running. All the coveted slots for special promotions had gone to brands who'd slipped her a little

unfairly resources had been distributed. It was obvious-Isadora was targeting her, and she wasn't even the head of the Vaughan Group yet. If she ever took over for real, what

become the new master

glance. She headed off with the other managers to continue their walk-through of

supervisors resumed their reports, only this time, they were twice as alert and careful as before. No one dared try

Lorien Footwear. It's a luxury brand from Northmarch; all their shoes are custom-designed and have become a favorite among

flipping through it as she walked,

rang out from one of the

stood framed in the boutique's entrance, dressed in a tailored rose-colored velvet dress, large floral patterns swirling across the fabric. On her arm hung an Hermès

other

less like a