Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Eleanor hurried in, nearly breathless.

The moment she spotted Nanette, her voice trembled with worry. "How's Isadora? Is she alright?"

Nanette's eyes were red, heart aching at the memory of Isadora gritting her teeth against the pain. “They just took her into the delivery room."

Eleanor's gaze darted anxiously around the hospital corridors. "Where's Victor? Isn't he supposed to be here? She's about to give birth, for heaven's sake-why isn't he here?"

Nanette clenched her jaw. "His phone's off. I can't reach him."

With no other options, Eleanor clutched the silver cross at her neck and stepped aside. Hands clasped, she began to pray under her breath, "Please, keep Isadora and her baby safe."

On the other side of the hospital, Finley had just arrived after hearing Isadora was in labor.

But as soon as Nanette saw him, all her pent-up frustration toward Victor spilled over. "Isadora's about to give birth and Victor's nowhere to be found! Men- honestly, you're all the same."

"Alright, alright, calm down. I'll try calling Victor now," Finley said, quickly pulling out his phone.

He dialed Victor's number. The call rang out-cold, mechanical, with no answer.

Nanette nearly exploded with rage, her face flushed and her hands shaking. "If something happens to Isadora or the baby, Victor will regret it for the rest of his life!"

*

At the casino, Farrar's face twisted into a scowl as he ended his call.

With a loud crash, he kicked the poker table, chips scattering everywhere.

He glared at the man across from him—a handsome, composed figure with an air

of reserved power. "Well, Victor! I really underestimated you, didn't I? You've ruined my business overseas, and now you're trying to wipe me out here too. Damn you!"

barely glanced up, his tone slow and deliberate. "Just taking a page from your own

warning, he

flinch. He caught Farrar's punch

his hand free, but Victor held tight,

in a dark suit, immediately drew his gun and leveled it at

swept through the room. Gamblers and dealers scrambled for cover-the croupier went pale and collapsed to

"Farrar, this is Capitolion,

his expression twisted, eyes bloodshot with hate. "I've lost everything-what do I have

gave Kemp

a phone across the table, its screen playing

and a young boy, no older than seven, were tied to chairs, shouting desperately for

cold smile. "Maybe they'd like to

darkened his face. He ground

voice icy.

a long, tense moment,

reluctantly tossed

swept up the

squad of police officers burst through the doors,

under arrest for arms trafficking and drug distribution. Put

contorted, and he

you're even more ruthless than thought should've finished you

the table, pulling

lightning fast as

sprayed across the room, chaos erupting

men clashed, trading

the

The instant he saw the messages, his composure cracked His expression turned grim,

handed him the keys. "Parked out front. The driver's