Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 430

Isadora felt a surge of emotion. Not long ago, she hadn't even laid eyes on Meade, and now here she was, addressing him as Mr. Walsh.

Of course, this "Mr. Walsh," along with all the polite smiles and eager greetings from those around her, had nothing to do with her own merits. It was all because she was about to become Mrs. Fitzgerald.

She smiled lightly. "Mr. Walsh-you have quite the memory."

A crisp, melodic voice rang out from across the room, as bright as a songbird's call: "Grandpa!"

A young woman swept into view, her royal blue dress hugging her hourglass figure. A matching set of diamonds-necklace, earrings, and bracelet-caught the light with every graceful step she took.

Olivia Walsh, just twenty, was the picture of youthful beauty. She looped her arm through Meade's, her manner at once affectionate and just a touch imperious.

Meade's eyes softened as he looked at his granddaughter, his smile deepening. "This is my granddaughter, Olivia Walsh," he said with unmistakable pride. "And this," he added, turning to Isadora, "is Victor, Dorian's grandson-CEO of the Fitzgerald Group."

The Fitzgerald family—the wealthiest in Capitolion. Isadora had heard of them, of

course.

on everyone's lips since she'd moved back home. Every society girl in town seemed obsessed with him, and honestly, she'd never understood the fuss. He was just another rich man,

features and those deep-set eyes-Olivia finally understood the hype. He was,

of curiosity—and something

out again, her voice suddenly shy and sweet. Then she turned to Victor, smiling with practiced charm. "Hi, Victor. I'm Olivia—just Olivia,

politely,

"Forgive her manners-everyone spoils my granddaughter, so she

a beat. "I was saying, if it weren't for that loan from Legacy National Bank, our

Victor get married, I'll make sure

Olivia's ears pricked

Wait, what?

just started to notice already spoken

a look, her eyes sweeping over her in open, unfiltered disdain. The

who had been the center of attention earlier, stealing the spotlight in Olivia's own home. The

aristocracy-should, by rights, be paired with someone

head, meeting Olivia's glare with calm indifference. Sparks seemed to fly as their

but Isadora simply