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.

exactly why she

balcony, and wondered if she should stop dragging the baggage of past

golden retriever, seemed to sense the tension.

rib on his plate, but it

out a soft bark, Pudding seemed to say,

heard the sound, glanced down at Pudding, and gently ruffled his head. "Good boy. I think your

head into

over the spread of food on the table, her eyes lingering on the fresh crab Victor had just

let a half-dead ex ruin

down her fork and pushed back her chair. Step by step, she walked toward the

approached, Victor's voice drifted in, low and edged

you can't get this project off

you experts or a bunch of freeloaders? How exactly do you think this is

so-called experts could barely breathe, silenced by Victor's

at work, but even in worse situations, he'd never lost his temper like this before. Now, all the experts could do was murmur, "We'll do our best, sir. You have our

the corner of his eye, Victor saw

it. I want to see

Isadora's soft white arms wound around his waist, snakelike, holding

voice was sweet and mellow, like wine soaked in summer fruit-a softness he wasn't used to, something that made his heart

question, and the irritation inside him