Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 294

But there was nothing she could do—right now, The Fitzgerald Group was her client, and she was just the contractor. That meant she had no choice but to sit quietly a short distance away and wait.

Suddenly, something seemed to go wrong. One of Victor’s subordinates must have said the wrong thing. Across the room, Isadora heard Victor’s low, cold grunt of disapproval. Even from where she sat, she could feel the tension in the air ramp up instantly.

She waited for almost half an hour before the meeting finally ended and the others filed out. Once they were gone, Isadora hesitated for a moment, then stood and made her way over to the seating area.

Victor lounged on the couch, not bothering to look up. His eyes stayed glued to the paperwork in his hands, as if he’d already forgotten she existed.

Isadora stood there a bit awkwardly, pressing her lips together and forcing herself into business mode. “Mr. Fitzgerald, on behalf of The Vaughan Group, I’d like to present our plans for the Global Project for next quarter.”

At her words, Victor deigned to lift his gaze, barely glancing at her as he tilted his chin in a silent go-ahead. Then he immediately dropped his head again, turning to the next page of his file with those long, elegant fingers. The only sound in the room was the soft rustle of paper.

Isadora felt like one of his junior staff, desperately trying to win her boss’s approval. If she’d known she’d end up in this position, she would never have accepted that eight hundred million dollar investment from this man. Right now, all she wanted was to get out—away from him, away from this suffocating, awkward atmosphere, and away from the man who made her heart ache in ways she didn’t want to admit.

Gritting her teeth, she started her report. She was halfway through when she realized Victor’s attention had drifted from the documents to her. Leaning back, he rested his temple against his fingers and fixed her with an unreadable stare.

Caught off guard by his gaze, Isadora faltered for a split second, losing her train of thought. Finally, Victor spoke, voice cool and emotionless: “It’s lunchtime. We’ll eat first.”

With that, he picked up the phone and ordered lunch to be brought in.

Out of the corner of his eye, Victor noticed her. A faint smirk played at his lips as he watched her bring the spoon to her mouth.

But the rich aroma of the broth only made Isadora’s nausea worse. She used to love chicken soup—soothing, nourishing, the perfect comfort food. Now, whether it was her pregnancy or just her nerves, after just one sip she had to clamp a hand over her mouth, fighting back a wave of retching.

Terrified she’d draw attention, she looked up—only to find Victor’s gaze ice-cold.

His voice was low and biting with sarcasm: “What’s this? Just eating with me is enough to make you sick now? Impressive, Isadora.”