Chapter 101

But he'd already promised-he'd agreed to the deal. So why was he suddenly backing out halfway through?

Isadora couldn't make sense of what was going on in this man's head.

She took a step forward, closing the distance until she was only a couple feet from Victor.

There was something about him—an undeniable air of authority, a quiet but overwhelming presence, as if he owned whatever space he occupied. Even sitting there, he radiated a kind of pressure that was impossible to ignore.

Nervously, Isadora pressed her lips together and tried to sound as diplomatic as she could. "I don't think you're the kind of man who goes back on his word, Mr. Fitzgerald. You agreed to invest eight hundred million. I'm sure you wouldn't renege on that."

Victor's lips curled in a dangerous, mocking smile. “You're wrong, Miss Vaughan. I can be that petty."

He let the words hang in the air before his tone shifted, voice sharp as glass. "Actually, should I even call you Miss Vaughan? Or should I call you Magnus's fiancée? I heard you two even went wedding dress shopping together."

The chill in his voice sent a spike of anxiety through Isadora's chest.

How did Victor know she'd been wedding dress shopping? Was he there that day? Did he think she and Magnus were actually getting married?

believed she'd broken her promise to end things with Magnus, and that's why he wanted to

"I can explain.

place, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What kind of accident? Don't tell me

then

it

add, "It's not

desperate. "I'm not the kind of person who goes back

her, easily a

could wrap her

down, his eyes dark and unreadable. Suddenly, he reached out, his hand grazing her chin with a touch

but the tension radiating from him was

deceptively casual, but beneath the calm was an undercurrent as turbulent as

his breath warm against her skin. "Funny-Magnus was just telling me the other day that he wanted to send me an invitation to your wedding. Who knows, maybe in a few days I'll be hearing about your first child. Tell me, Isadora, are you

faint trace of cologne mixed with a hint of tobacco on him—familiar and intoxicating. For a

child? Did he

into focus. Was he jealous? Did he think she could have

into his angry eyes and, almost in a whisper, asked, "Are

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