Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 390

Isadora looked up, her dark eyes drawn irresistibly to Victor.

Under the soft lights, his profile was sharp, almost severe, his lashes casting shadows as he glanced down, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, she thought he might relent.

But Victor's voice, calm and unreadable, cut through the tension.

"If you want to make a scene, I won't stop you. But if Isadora is moving in, that's my decision. End of discussion."

Without waiting for a reply, Victor took Isadora's hand and led her forward.

Deanna's face drained of all color; she seemed to age a decade in an instant, a single tear slipping from the corner of her eye.

Isadora followed Victor up the sweeping marble staircase, her gaze fixed on the tall man in the black jacket leading her onward.

She glanced back one last time at the chaos in the living room.

Pattie lay unconscious on the floor, blood from her forehead seeping into the rug. Deanna slumped on the sofa, barely conscious, her eyes dull and lifeless.

The household staff and family doctor stood frozen in place, too shocked to move. Earlier, at the entrance to the Fitzgerald estate, Isadora had only meant to half- jokingly complain to Victor, to vent her frustrations. She knew his temper-knew he might be upset by what she said-but she never expected him to go this far. Victor led her up to the third floor.

They walked down a long corridor, the walls lined with elegant, old-world paintings that spoke of the house's deep history.

At the very end, Victor stopped and opened a door.

The room was spacious, decorated in understated shades of deep blue.

inside, shelves of meticulously arranged model cars and shining trophies caught her

sitting area, study, and bathroom flowed seamlessly together

glanced back and saw Isadora standing

she was frightened, he slipped an arm around her slender waist and pulled her

"What's wrong?"

her clear eyes searching

first time in Fitzgerald Mansion. It doesn't feel

a strand of hair from her forehead, eyes

was lying, but he

here for a while," he said softly. "I'll have someone bring you

you going?" Isadora asked,

her fingers, his deep eyes glinting

to let

flushed and quickly let go.

an eyebrow, his voice low

take care of some work. This used to

when I was

has changed. Feel

his footsteps

leaned back against it, his brow

to his left shoulder, where

of Fitzgerald Manor, the stitches in

teeth, he straightened, forcing himself to cross

servant and told them to bring