Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 249

Isadora knew that if Victor promised to look into something for her, he would see it through—no question about it.

That was why she’d been so confident earlier, telling everyone she was committed to taking on this project.

She called Wendy and said, “I’ve already got someone checking on the Abbott situation. We should have an update soon. Let’s just stick to the plan for now.”

After she hung up, Isadora stared at her phone, lost in thought.

She couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but somewhere along the way she’d come to rely on Victor—trust him—in a way she never had with Magnus.

The depth of it unsettled her a little.

Victor appeared from the bedroom, fresh from his shower. He wore a black sweatshirt and gray lounge pants; his dark hair was damp and dripping slightly, a white towel slung casually around his neck as he ran it through his hair.

He leaned in the kitchen doorway, exuding a relaxed, effortless charm.

From where he stood, he could see Isadora at the stove, her hair piled up in a messy bun that revealed the elegant line of her neck—like a swan, regal and poised. She was bent slightly over the counter, lost in the rhythm of preparing dinner.

Under the warm glow of the kitchen lights, Isadora’s shirt dress fit her tall, graceful figure perfectly. Her profile was gentle, focused; her movements, practiced and sure. She was a striking presence, as if she belonged in a painting.

Victor strode over, his footsteps measured and confident.

He slipped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, his voice low and teasing. “What are you making?”

Isadora was pan-searing a steak when she suddenly felt the warmth of Victor's body pressed against her back.

Next thing she knew, he’d pulled her into his familiar embrace.

He smelled faintly of shower gel and cedar, the clean, masculine scent combined with the lingering steam from his shower. It flooded her senses, making her lightheaded for a moment.

She froze, nearly letting the spatula slip as a splash of hot oil threatened to jump out of the pan.

Luckily, Victor caught her hand just in time, helping her flip the steak.

“Careful,” he chided, his tone gentle. “Getting distracted while cooking can be dangerous.”

Isadora muttered inwardly, Not my fault you snuck up on me and broke my focus.

“Go on, let me handle this,” she said, trying to sound firm.

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you could cook.”

He tossed out a number. “1118.”

Isadora paused, her hand hovering over the stove. That was her birthday.

She opened her mouth to ask why he’d use her birthday as his code, but before she could speak, Victor said, “It’s a message from your assistant.”

She snapped back to the moment. “Oh, I’ll reply later. It’s probably Wendy about work.”

Victor started to lock her phone, but something caught his eye—a contact name: “Jerk.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Smirking, he leaned in and nipped at her earlobe. “So, I’m your ‘Jerk’ now?”

The playful bite sent a jolt straight through her, not painful but tingling, electric.

She remembered abruptly why she’d changed his contact name in the first place.

“That’s just…” Isadora started to explain, then thought better of it. “Well, if you didn’t tease me so much all the time, you wouldn’t have earned it, would you?”