Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 191

Isadora rolled her eyes.

Some best friend—always ready to sell you out.

Richard, eager to impress Victor, chimed in immediately, “If the young master himself is willing to look after our Isadora, we can rest easy as her family. Isadora, you should just go stay with Victor.”

Isadora stared at Richard, disgust twisting inside her at the sight of that eager-to-cut-a-deal smile.

Richard went on, “Victor, you must visit the Vaughans’ place sometime soon. It’d be good for our families to get to know each other better.”

With that, he grabbed the still-hesitant Eleanor and whisked her away.

Nanette, seeing everyone else leaving, made to slip away too.

She had barely taken a step in her heels when Isadora caught her by the hand, halting her.

“I’m staying at your place tonight,” Isadora said.

Nanette darted a nervous glance behind Isadora and whispered, “And… what about him?”

Isadora turned to Victor and said matter-of-factly, “Sorry, but Nanette’s going through a rough patch—breakup, career troubles, depression, and, well, a few extra pounds. She really needs me with her right now, so I’ll have to stay at her place and look after her.”

Nanette stared at her, equal parts annoyed and speechless.

Some friend—could she lay off the curses for once?

Without waiting for Victor’s response, Isadora grabbed Nanette and made a beeline for the parking lot.

As they hurried along, Nanette kept sneaking glances at Isadora, convinced her friend must have knocked something loose during her hospital stay. Who in their right mind would ditch a devastatingly handsome, ridiculously powerful billionaire for a night with her?

“Babe, are you sure about this? You’re not going to get any, uh, physical satisfaction hanging out with me,” Nanette teased.

“I just want some peace and quiet,” Isadora muttered.

Nanette could only sigh and start the car.

But just as they pulled out, the screech of tires cut through the air. A sleek, jet-black limited-edition sports car skidded to a halt, blocking their path like a panther in the night.

Isadora looked down, silent, lost in thought.

Victor simply waited, unmoving, his dark eyes fixed on her.

Behind them, the line of cars trying to leave the underground garage began honking impatiently. The chorus of horns grew louder, pushing them to resolve the standoff.

Nanette, getting flustered, leaned in to whisper, “Babe, I’d love to back you up, but I’m filming a horror movie right now, and the director wants us to stay under the radar. I can’t end up in the tabloids tonight. Maybe you should just go with him.”

Isadora sighed, resigned. She reached for the handle, stepped out of the car.

She followed Victor to his bold, menacing black coupe.

The car tore down the wide, empty highway like a graceful beast unleashed.

Streetlights flashed across Victor’s face through the window, throwing his expression in and out of shadow. His mood was unreadable, dark and enigmatic.

Victor drove steadily, heading straight for Summit Crest Estates—the most exclusive, security-obsessed neighborhood in all of Capitolion, where every inch of land was worth a fortune.