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.

bandaging her split lip and said, "Next time, I'm taking you

little incredulous. "You mean... two against one? Are

I swoop in like a knight in

line in his body radiating cold, dangerous energy that seemed to freeze the air around him. It

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

chair, one arm tossed behind his head, the

Suddenly, his phone rang.

glanced at Isadora, then answered with her right there. "What's

grandmother, Deanna Fitzgerald. Her voice, warm and worried, drifted through the speaker. "My dear boy, I heard you've been working yourself to the bone at the branch office-barely sleeping, flying back in such a rush! Fifteen hours on a plane, goodness. The

saying he'd be away on business for a week. Yet here he was, back after just four

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

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

turned away so he