Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 110

The tension between them was palpable, as if someone had struck a match and set their tempers ablaze.

Suddenly, an obnoxiously loud ringtone sliced through the thick silence, startling them both.

Victor glanced at his phone with casual indifference, then shot a quick, cool look at Isadora's pale, porcelain face.

Her expression was a touch severe, eyes quietly defiant in a way most people would miss.

Letting go of her chin, Victor stood up, his long legs carrying him to the marble balcony outside. He answered the call with a flick of his wrist.

Isadora lowered her gaze and continued picking at her dinner, but her eyes would stray to the glass window, watching Victor's tall silhouette framed by the night.

He cut an imposing figure out there-broad-shouldered, long-limbed, dressed in black. Usually, he carried himself with a sort of careless charm, even a hint of mischief. But now, something cold and unapproachable radiated from him—an aloofness that kept everyone at arm's length.

Isadora had to admit it: she wasn't ready to open her heart to someone new just yet.

She thought back-what would she have done if Magnus had been upset with her?

No, with Magnus, she would have soothed him before he even had the chance to frown.

She'd never let him be angry for long; she'd bend over backwards to keep him happy, always attentive and thoughtful.

maybe, she realized, that's exactly why she wanted

there on the balcony, and wondered if she should stop

seemed to sense the tension.

on his plate, but it suddenly didn't smell quite

a soft bark, Pudding seemed to

his head. "Good boy. I think your dad's a little upset

fuzzy head into her palm, offering

table, her eyes lingering on the fresh crab Victor

wasn't heartless. Why let a half-dead ex ruin her life

moment, she set down her fork and pushed back her

voice drifted in, low

me, you can't get

bunch of freeloaders?

other end, the so-called experts could barely breathe, silenced by

never lost his temper like this before. Now, all the experts could do was murmur, "We'll do our best,

of the corner of his eye,

I want to see progress tomorrow." Then

arms wound around his

mad?” Her voice was sweet and mellow, like wine soaked in summer fruit-a softness he

that simple question, and the irritation