Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 487

Victor couldn't help but find her words amusing.

How did women come up with this kind of logic, anyway?

"Piggy Vaughan, what wild ideas are you cooking up in that head of yours?" he teased, half-grinning. "Is it so hard to believe I just want to do something nice for you?"

Isadora met his gaze, catching the playful glint in his eyes. She felt her own confidence waver, so she flopped back into her seat and deliberately looked away.

"Men always want something in return. I don't want your shares," she huffed.

Victor massaged his forehead, his tone shifting to something gentle and coaxing. "Why not take them? I'm offering them sincerely, you know."

She only scoffed, "I said I don't want them!"

"Then what would make you take them? Do I have to beg?" Victor couldn't remember ever lowering himself like this-pleading with a woman to accept his money.

Isadora had to bite back a smile. After a moment, she replied, lips pressed together to hide her amusement, "It has to be your choice, not because I forced you."

"Yes, yes," Victor relented, giving in with exaggerated earnestness. "I, of my own free will, am offering twenty percent of The Fitzgerald Group to the beautiful and kind Miss Vaughan."

She lifted her chin with a sly little smile. "Well, I suppose, seeing as you're so sincere, I'll just have to accept-though it's such a hardship."

Victor arched a brow, eyes narrowing with bemusement. Why did it feel like he was the one getting swindled here?

home, Isadora's stomach

at the bustling strip of nightlife they used to frequent. Turning to Victor, who was focused on the road, she announced,

her two chocolate bars. "We'll be home

How utterly uninspiring.

at the

thing?" Victor asked, eyebrow

a small bag stuffed with

you have so much food in here?"

get hungry. I had

"I don't want

wandered out the window, catching the glow of a

black Ferrari immediately drew the attention of a few

Tell me what you

already unbuckling her seatbelt.

stepped out, Victor noticed her veering toward a

frowned, he

heart of the night

light. The place was bursting with life-crowds pressed shoulder to shoulder, laughter and chatter blending into

Vol

center of the avenue, a troupe of dancers in elaborate Renaissance costumes performed for the crowd, giving the night a

two strides, draping his arm over her shoulders and