Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 155

Victor parked the car and stepped out, gently taking Isadora's hand in his.

Together, they crossed to the glass elevator and rode all the way up, the city lights flickering further and further below. When the doors slid open, they stepped out onto the rooftop-a dazzling canopy of midnight blue stretching above them, studded with bursts of fireworks and a thousand glittering stars, as if someone had sewn diamonds into velvet.

The rooftop itself felt almost magical. Balloons and vibrant roses framed a cozy, intimate viewing deck-just for the two of them.

Victor produced a small first-aid kit from somewhere-Isadora had no idea where he'd been hiding it. He took out a cotton swab, soaked it in antiseptic, and reached for her, careful and deliberate as he dabbed at the red, swollen cut at the corner of her mouth.

The sting was sharp. Isadora flinched, instinctively turning her face away, her voice barely a whisper. "That hurts..."

Victor frowned, his tone gruff but his touch impossibly gentle. "Hurts now, does it? Funny-why didn't you dodge when Prescott hit you?" His voice was low, rough around the edges, but his movements softened even further.

Isadora looked away, frustration clouding her eyes. How could she have known Prescott would just walk up and slap her in front of everyone? Even if she'd shouted, even if she'd fought back, it wouldn't have mattered. A woman's strength was no match for a grown man's.

Prescott was impulsive and hotheaded, always ready to defend his own-but only when it came to Pearl. Just thinking about it dimmed the light in Isadora's usually

bright eyes.

her split lip and said,

a little incredulous. "You mean... two

quirked with the hint of a smile, his voice dry as he replied, "What's this? I swoop in like

his forearm taut with muscle, every line in his body radiating cold,

why people always whispered about the Capitol heir's boxing skills. If only she could be half as strong as him, she might finally be able

onto a lounge chair, one arm tossed behind his head, the other lazily playing with her slender, silken

Suddenly, his phone rang.

then answered with

flying back in such a rush! Fifteen

enough to hear every word. She remembered Victor saying he'd be away on business for a week. Yet here he was, back after

profile—the strong jaw, the sharp nose, the sculpted lines of his face, every feature carved with the same careful precision. But there

back for her birthday. The realization stung, flooding her chest with warmth and something achingly

turned away so he wouldn't notice