Chapter 132

Is this punishment for him—or for herself?

Once again, she'd fallen into this man's clever trap.

Warm breath brushed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

Isadora pressed her palm to his chest, her skin burning hot. She felt awkward, flustered, wanting to ignore him.

Victor reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. His touch was soft, almost reverent.

"What were you thinking about back then?" he asked quietly.

From the surveillance footage Director Lawson had sent over, the sequence was clear.

The truck driver took the corner full speed, never slowing down.

There was a brief moment, too, when Isadora lost focus at the wheel.

By the book, both drivers shared responsibility for the accident.

But Isadora's Mercedes was mangled, the damage far worse than the truck's.

And she'd been hurt more badly.

Plus, that scumbag of a man-how dare he frighten her like that?

A cold glint flashed in Victor's eyes as he recalled the scene.

emotional damages. Someone like that didn't deserve to walk

her

exactly when she'd gotten distracted: she'd heard Victor's voice on the radio, that single,

this was news to

someone as free-spirited, rebellious as Victor Fitzgerald keep

in her had

unsettled her,

to stop

Nanette was right: keep it light, keep it simple. Enjoy the romance, but never give your heart. Wasn't that the carefree way

lifted her gaze to the man standing

chiseled, his brows arched, and those

impossible not to

give you a

dark eyes lit up, locking onto her pale, delicate

and low. "Oh? What made you decide to give

been promoted to director, so I wanted

dimmed

a moment, that she was falling for

read too much

style, anyway-since when did Mr.

slid his arm around her, hugging her tightly to his chest, his chin resting in her hair. "Miss Vaughan, you really

and secure; the crisp, woodsy scent

Isadora decided, she'd let herself fall just

him, her

heartbeat-steady, strong, as

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