Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 132

Is this punishment for him—or for herself?

Once again, she’d fallen into this man’s clever trap.

Warm breath brushed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

Isadora pressed her palm to his chest, her skin burning hot. She felt awkward, flustered, wanting to ignore him.

Victor reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. His touch was soft, almost reverent.

“What were you thinking about back then?” he asked quietly.

From the surveillance footage Director Lawson had sent over, the sequence was clear.

The truck driver took the corner full speed, never slowing down.

There was a brief moment, too, when Isadora lost focus at the wheel.

By the book, both drivers shared responsibility for the accident.

But Isadora’s Mercedes was mangled, the damage far worse than the truck’s.

And she’d been hurt more badly.

Plus, that scumbag of a man—how dare he frighten her like that?

A cold glint flashed in Victor’s eyes as he recalled the scene.

Five million dollars for medical bills and emotional damages. Someone like that didn’t deserve to walk away unscathed.

Isadora pressed her lips together.

She knew exactly when she’d gotten distracted: she’d heard Victor’s voice on the radio, that single, unforgettable line—“It’s the person I’ve always loved.”

It wasn’t as if this was news to her.

Otherwise, why would someone as free-spirited, rebellious as Victor Fitzgerald keep an old photograph sitting on his desk?

Isadora realized something in her had changed.

That realization unsettled her, deep inside.

She was afraid—afraid of falling into another relationship, helpless to stop herself, only to end up broken all over again.

Maybe Nanette was right: keep it light, keep it simple. Enjoy the romance, but never give your heart. Wasn’t that the carefree way to love?

Isadora lifted her gaze to the man standing in front of her.

Beneath his sharp, cropped hair, his features were striking—every line clean and chiseled, his brows arched, and those narrow, fox-like eyes, dark and magnetic, with a wicked, alluring tilt to their corners.

It was almost impossible not to be drawn in.

“I actually planned to give you a gift tonight,” she admitted.

“I’m sure you’ve heard—just a few years ago, they found me and brought me back to the Vaughan family. My adoptive mother… she wasn’t kind. I thought if I went back, all the hurt would finally heal.”

A bitter smile flickered across Isadora’s lips, then vanished.

“But by then, the Vaughan family had already moved on without me. So… I had to carve out my own place.”

Victor’s arm tightened around her waist.

She made it sound simple, but he could hear the stubbornness—and the ache—in her voice.

His own voice grew low and intent. “Then, Miss Vaughan, why not find your place here—with me?”

As he spoke, he took her hand and pressed it to his chest.

He looked down, meeting her eyes, gaze unwavering.

Isadora shot him a look and gave his chest a gentle smack.

“A man’s heart is like glass. If I go in, won’t I just get cut to pieces?”

“Is that so?” Victor’s eyes darkened, a sly glimmer in his stare. “How would you know if you never try?”

Isadora’s heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, come on, you’re interrupting me! Someone like you—born with everything, golden boy of the Fitzgeralds—how could you possibly understand what I’ve lived through?”