Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 491

Night had settled quietly over Brocade Heights. Outside the balcony, the

apartment complex was draped in darkness, with only a faint golden glow from a distant streetlamp tracing a thin line of light across the pavement. Every so often, the distant wail of a car horn sliced through the stillness before fading away beneath their window.

Victor pushed open the bedroom door. The woman lying on the bed was already fast asleep.

She was curled on her side, hugging the new body pillow she'd bought just last week. Her cotton nightdress, striped in soft blue and white, was anything but alluring, yet her legs-bare and restless-poked out from beneath the covers, gleaming pale and smooth in the silvery wash of moonlight.

Victor stepped closer and leaned down, his large hand cupping one of her feet, small and delicate, barely filling his palm.

Her ankle was slender, her toes tinged with a soft blush, occasionally curling in on themselves in a way that made him smile.

He gently tucked her foot back under the blanket and pulled the covers up to shield her from the night's chill.

Standing at her bedside, he watched her for a while, the room silent except for her steady breathing. Then, he bent and pressed a whisper of a kiss to her smooth forehead. He stooped to straighten her slippers beneath the bed, aligning them neatly side by side.

With that, he straightened and turned to leave.

Half-awake, Isadora blinked into the darkness, her voice husky with sleep. "Where... are you going?"

wake you?" he asked

She shook her head.

going to the living room. Go back to sleep,

watched his tall silhouette in the dim light. She couldn't make out his features, but she could sense the gentle smile in his obsidian

self-conscious, she murmured,

surprise.

fine if you don't want to," she mumbled, embarrassed. After all, she'd sent him away the night before and now, here she was,

a low, brief

Whatever tension that photo had stirred up between them, in her mind

of his mouth as he circled to the other side of the bed, lifted the covers,

wasn't large-barely five feet

in, Isadora felt a wave of warmth radiate

familiar scent filling the air, unmistakable

sharp awareness. She could hear her own heartbeat, loud and

a moment, Victor's broad, warm hand

from his palm seeped through the thin fabric, spreading from her belly

tenderness. "I read that, after three months, you might start to feel the baby moving.