Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 175

Hearing those words, Richard froze for a moment, stunned.

If Isadora really left the Vaughan Group now, would they lose their chance to profit from the Fitzgerald family? That prize was practically within their grasp.

He still had ambitious plans brewing-another huge project on the horizon, hoping Victor would invest another billion dollars. A shadow flickered in Richard's eyes. He absolutely couldn't let Isadora just walk away like this. At the very least, he had to make sure the Vaughan Group squeezed every possible benefit out of the Fitzgerald Group before she left.

"Isadora, you're a daughter of the Vaughan family. The family business is part of your legacy too. If you resign now, the rumors swirling around outside will only get worse! I can't possibly agree to this!"

Isadora rose from her seat. "I'm not here to negotiate, Richard. I came to inform you. Whether you agree or not is no longer my concern."

Only love makes you fight for something. Without it, the Vaughan Group was just another job that didn't suit her anymore.

With that, Isadora turned and walked out.

Richard called after her, anger lacing his voice. "Isadora! Since when do you ignore your own father?"

any longer, spoke up. "Dad, if she wants to go,

smack. "What do you know? If you're so capable, go find me a Capitol

Vaughan family could be the top family in Capitol City. But if Isadora's

out her work. Each file

after all, she'd given four years of her life to this place. She had started at the very bottom and clawed her way up, step by step, until she finally became a director at the Vaughan Group.

and

it was finally over. Their recognition meant nothing to her

crown in someone else's kingdom? She'd rather build

own.

quick calculations -she had enough liquid assets set aside. Renting an office and hiring a small team-the initial investment would be around half a million. As long as she could land a few projects and get started, she could slowly turn

a newly opened luxury boutique in the shopping mall. The store was lavishly decorated, every

have cleared out for a VIP event. Two staff members stood at the entrance, ensuring privacy. Inside, an elderly lady in a dark, regal gown sat gracefully, a string of emeralds at her throat. Several attendants hovered nearby, and the sales associates-clearly unaccustomed to such high-profile guests— waited on

peered through the boutique's glass window. The elderly woman's gaze met hers-deep, unreadable,

paused, her fingers tightening involuntarily around her