Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 177

Isadora’s hand slipped, and her phone tumbled to the floor.

A woman’s voice was still coming through the speaker, but Isadora ended the call on reflex.

Maybe it was just an accident.

She tried to reassure herself, but her fingers trembled on the steering wheel.

For a long moment, Isadora just sat there, folding her hands over the wheel and lowering her head against it, lost in silent, tangled thoughts.

From outside the car, the interior looked dim and shadowed. Her slender figure was hunched in the driver’s seat, shoulders shaking ever so slightly with quiet despair.

***

Across the Atlantic, in Solstrand.

Victor emerged from the bathroom wearing gray lounge pants, a black sweater thrown on carelessly, and a towel draped around his neck. His hair was damp and a bit tousled.

He paused when he saw the tall woman in the living room, dressed in a crisp white shirt and jeans.

Victor’s handsome brow furrowed, his expression darkening. “What are you doing here?”

It was Nannie Hayes.

She was the daughter of the Fitzgeralds’ old chauffeur—the man who had once sacrificed himself to save Victor’s mother during a kidnapping. In gratitude, Mrs. Fitzgerald had taken responsibility for Nannie, supporting her and providing for her ever since.

That one event had changed the entire course of Nannie’s life.

She and Victor were close in age, and as a child, Nannie had often played with him, always at his side. If you squinted, you could almost call them childhood friends, though in truth, it was a bond more precious to Nannie than to Victor. Most of the time, she simply watched him quietly from afar.

To the Fitzgeralds, Nannie was almost like a chess piece: as long as she obeyed, prosperity and privilege were hers. But one day, this loyal pawn developed feelings she shouldn’t have.

When Mrs. Fitzgerald found out, she sent Nannie abroad. Nearly ten years had passed since she’d last been home.

Today, she was only here because the old lady had called, asking her to deliver something—and, perhaps, to take care of a few other matters.

Nannie looked at the man before her.

Victor glanced at the phone screen. For a beat, his tired, indifferent eyes flickered with surprise.

Isadora had actually called him of her own accord.

That was new.

Victor was about to call her back when he looked up and saw Nannie still standing there, head bowed.

His voice was cool and careless, sharp as ice water. “Is there something else?”

She’d finished her errand; he was clearly dismissing her.

Nannie knew she should leave, but after so many years apart, she lingered, reluctant to go.

“I heard you’re getting engaged. Congratulations.”

Victor lounged against the sofa, one arm stretched along the back, lean muscles outlined beneath the sweater. His gaze was piercing as he studied her.