Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 250

Victor tapped the notification and opened the chat without thinking.

Suddenly, that message—just four words: *“Thunder scares me.”*

The words hit Victor hard, catching him completely off guard as they lit up the darkness of his gaze.

His fingertips hovered over those words glowing on the cold glass of his phone.

He didn’t remember ever receiving this message.

That day, his father had suffered a sudden stroke. Victor had rushed to the hospital to donate blood, leaving his phone and clothes with the housekeeper.

Now, silence pressed in all around him.

Across the kitchen, Isadora was plating a perfectly seared steak onto a white dish.

“Isadora,” Victor’s voice was rough, low.

She glanced over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Victor’s arm tightened around her slender waist.

Without another word, he scooped her up and settled her onto the clean marble counter beside him, so they were face to face.

His eyes were dark, unwavering as he looked at her—at first calm and deep, then slowly flickering with emotion. His voice dropped even lower. “That night... I didn’t know you wanted me to come back.”

Isadora blinked, her dark eyes wide and clear.

His words yanked her back to that lonely evening: sitting alone at the table, mustering up the courage to send that message.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “You told me your grandfather was sick. I understood.”

Regret flashed in Victor’s eyes. He murmured, “I’m sorry.”

He’d thought it was just another night he hadn’t come home.

He hadn’t realized she’d been waiting, hoping he’d come back, sending him that message.

Those two things weren’t the same at all.

Isadora tried to smile, but it came out strained. “It’s fine. It’s in the past, isn’t it?”

Victor’s gaze softened. He reached up, cupped the back of her neck, and kissed her—urgent, almost desperate.

He bit gently at her lip, deepening the kiss, his warmth seeping right into her nerves. Breathless, mouth still pressed to hers, he whispered, “Silly girl.”

His breath was warm against her skin.

Isadora’s eyelashes trembled. Her heart felt like it might melt.

They’d kissed countless times before.

Seafarer Designs.

Isadora strode in, tall and graceful, dressed in a black-and-white houndstooth Chanel cardigan, skinny blue jeans, and five-centimeter heels. She looked every bit the picture of effortless style.

Wendy gave her a second, appreciative glance.

“Isadora, you look fantastic today. Have a good night or something?”

Isadora’s eyes sparkled as she smiled. “Nosy.”

Just then, Rowena emerged from her office, looking tense.

She’d finally decided to stand up to Abbott, but fear still gnawed at her.

What if, in the next instant, those compromising photos of her were blasted all over Capitolion?

The thought had kept her awake all night.

Compared to Isadora’s healthy glow, Rowena’s anxiety was written all over her face.

Isadora handed her a folder.

“I’ve got everything on Abbott—tax evasion, illegal business practices, you name it. All the evidence we need.”