Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 291

He only looked at Laverne, his expression shifting from fawning envy to biting contempt.

Under their gazes, Laverne’s cheeks turned hot, a flush creeping up until her whole face burned red.

Brocade Heights.

Isadora was driven home by Nanette.

The two of them didn’t speak a word on the way.

It was only when they reached her building.

Nanette hesitated, wanting to say something, then finally told her to really think things through.

Whatever Isadora decided in the end, Nanette promised she’d support her, no matter what.

“If you change your mind and decide to keep the baby,” Nanette said softly, “we’ll raise it together, just the two of us if we have to.”

Isadora managed a grateful smile, promising she’d give it serious thought.

Eleanor had left for Europe recently, still away on her soul-searching trip.

So Isadora hadn’t gone back to the Vaughan family estate—instead, she’d returned here tonight.

After getting out of the car, she didn’t head inside right away. Instead, she wandered the quiet streets nearby, trying to settle her tangled thoughts.

She’d already resolved to cut all ties with Victor, to move on. Yet fate, it seemed, had played its cruelest trick on her once again.

A chilly autumn breeze swept through the evening, raising goosebumps along her arms. Isadora shivered, a wave of nausea hitting her unexpectedly.

She doubled over, dry heaving.

The physical sensation only deepened the emotional turmoil inside her. For the first time, she truly felt the presence of new life growing within her.

The thought struck her like a dull blade pressed into her chest, sharp pangs radiating through her heart.

Not far away, a sleek black Porsche sat parked at the curb, its hazard lights off.

A man stood leaning against it, one hand in his pocket. The ground around him was littered with cigarette butts, and he still held another, its tip glowing red in the twilight.

He must have been waiting there for some time.

He and the Porsche were both swallowed by the shadows, almost invisible to a casual passerby.

Victor’s expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and fixed on the slender, beautiful figure in the distance.

His gaze flickered. He took a long drag from his cigarette, the bitter smoke doing nothing to calm the restless energy churning in his chest.

Her assistant was waiting to brief her on the day’s schedule.

“President Vaughan, you have the first-quarter Global Project investment meeting with the client this afternoon. So we’ll be heading over to The Fitzgerald Group’s investment office later.”

This was the same Global Project that The Fitzgerald Group had invested over $800 million in.

As the partner, her team needed to report on their progress and lay out the plans for the next quarter.

Isadora paused, clutching her folder a little tighter at the mention of The Fitzgerald Group.

Her position was different now.

She was the head of Vaughan Group—the buck stopped with her.

She couldn’t shirk her responsibilities just because the meeting was with the client.

After a moment’s thought, she reminded herself that this was just one of many investments handled by The Fitzgerald Group.

The last round had been managed by their investment director, Penelope Dawson.

There was no way Victor, with his packed schedule, would show up for something like this.

Reassured, Isadora nodded and said, “Alright. Let’s go.”