Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 405

Isadora found herself thinking of Victor.

All the memories of these past months with him surfaced-his arrogance, his devil-may-care attitude, the way he seemed so effortlessly in control of everything. And yet, for all his confidence and charm, he could be surprisingly gentle and, in his own way, possessive-especially when it came to her.

A smile tugged at Isadora's lips. "He's the kind of man who makes me feel truly safe."

Nicol grinned. "Sounds like President Vaughan's boyfriend is quite the catch! So, how did you two meet?"

Isadora kept it simple. "He saved me."

Nicol's eyes widened. "He saved you? That sounds like a story-no wonder you feel safe with him! Can you tell us a bit about what he's like day-to-day?"

Isadora laughed lightly. "Well, he can get on my nerves sometimes, but most of the time, he's incredibly gentle."

The audience buzzed with excitement: "Gentle! Makes you feel safe! Isn't she talking about The Fawcett Group's Terrell Fawcett?"

Another voice chimed in, "Terrell is the perfect fit! He's got that effortless charm— so dashing and composed!"

Someone else called out, "This is so sweet! Just get together already!"

looks like everyone's already figured out who Isadora's mystery man

cut to a man standing among

in a sleek silver-gray suit, exuding a

lit up instantly. "Who would've thought Mr. Fawcett from The Fawcett Group would grace us with his presence tonight? Maybe he just wanted to make sure President Vaughan didn't

erupted into delighted

official! Make it

"Get married already!"

momentarily stunned when she saw

her spot next to Isadora and moved to center stage, calling out, "Let's welcome Mr. Terrell Fawcett up

audience,

over to the show's producer. "Wait, this isn't right! Wasn't

be President Vaughan's interview? Why is

his concern, practically vibrating with excitement. "You just don't get it-this is what makes

*

The Fitzgerald Group's

was vast and gleaming

lounged back in his chair, legs crossed carelessly, his long fingers tracing the edge of a crystal photo frame on his desk. His dark eyes lingered on the image of a little girl inside, his fingertip