Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 180

"Well, thanks, but why don’t you go try your luck with someone else?"

Scales had never failed at chasing a woman.

For days now, he'd had his assistant deliver gifts by the dozen, but this woman? She didn’t even spare them a glance.

He simply couldn't believe it—how could one little starlet be so hard to win over?

"Now I’m determined," he announced, waving over his companions. "Magnus, Sammy, come here and eat with us."

Nanette had never met a man so shameless.

"Are you out of your mind? Didn’t you hear me? Just looking at your face ruins my appetite."

Scales, humiliated in front of a crowd by a woman’s blunt words, clenched his jaw. "You’d better remember this. Next time you’re in my bed, you’ll be screaming my name even louder."

Isadora and Nanette were eating quietly in a secluded booth, a wooden screen shielding them from most of the restaurant. But with the commotion growing louder, people began to recognize Nanette—the famous actress—and soon the curious crowd was raising their phones to snap photos.

Worried that Nanette would be swept up in another scandal just as the last rumor had finally died down, Isadora gently tugged her sleeve.

"Scales."

A low, chilly voice sounded from nearby.

Scales waved. "Magnus! Over here! Isadora’s here too. Looks like there’s one girl for each of us tonight!"

Magnus’ eyes were cold, unreadable. "We’re leaving. Now."

Scales thought he’d misheard.

"I said, let’s go!"

Magnus shot Isadora a long, frosty look, then turned and walked away.

Scales, grumbling under his breath, glared at Nanette. "Just you wait."

With that, he stomped off in a huff to catch up.

Sammy, the last to leave, paused by Isadora and Nanette’s table. "Sorry for the disturbance," he said politely.

Isadora smiled. "It's fine."

Nanette glanced at Sammy, her expression unreadable.

Sensing someone’s eyes on him, Sammy looked back with a polite smile, nodded to the women, and followed after his friends.

Her car jolted violently, veering out of control. Heart pounding, Isadora slammed on the brakes. Tires screeched, and the car finally shuddered to a halt.

She quickly jumped out and hurried to check the wheels.

Her breath caught—one tire was bristling with nails, dozens of them hammered in tight.

That couldn’t be right. The car had just passed its inspection last month—there was no way something like this should happen.

She pulled out her phone to call for a tow.

But as she glanced up, two dark figures appeared beneath the streetlights, moving steadily toward her.

A chill of dread crawled up her spine.

Without thinking, Isadora turned to run.

But before she could take a step, a strong hand clamped down on her from behind, pressing a cloth over her mouth and nose.

A harsh, stinging scent filled her senses.

Her head spun, vision swimming. Her body went limp, and darkness swallowed her whole.