Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 302

He was in a foul mood, so he headed to a restaurant for a drink.

This wasn’t just any restaurant—it was the one he’d bought for Winnie, simply because she’d once mentioned loving a particular dish here.

As he walked in, he overheard staff chatting about a young woman who’d reserved the entire place to celebrate her boyfriend’s birthday.

It was rare, he thought, to see such devotion.

Curious, he glanced over.

The table was laid out with an impressive spread, but the woman’s boyfriend never showed. Her slender frame and the sadness in her posture lingered in his mind—perhaps because he, too, knew what it felt like to be let down.

Maybe that’s why the memory stuck with him.

“I never expected you’d become President Vaughan. Keep going—you’ve got this.”

That encouragement felt almost like the kind of praise a teacher would give.

Isadora couldn’t help but break into a bright smile. “Thank you.”

Terrell found himself staring, his gaze deepening. He couldn’t help but say, “You have a beautiful smile.”

Isadora felt a little embarrassed at the compliment.

Sensing her discomfort, Terrell smoothly changed the subject.

“The Vaughan Group’s mall is facing some big changes right now. I actually know someone with experience in this field. If you’re interested, I could introduce you.”

Isadora knew that Terrell was the chairman of the local business association. Anyone who got close to him benefited from his connections—that’s why so many colleagues admired him.

“You’ve already helped me so much today. I’d hate to trouble you again.”

Terrell’s tone was warm. “If you really feel that way, maybe President Vaughan could treat me to a meal sometime?”

Two days later.

At Verdant Pavilion, one of Capitolion’s most prestigious restaurants, a table by the antique window awaited them.

Terrell arrived with an expert in the field—Mr. Allerton, a man in his early fifties with over two decades of experience in commercial development.

Isadora listened attentively as Mr. Allerton shared his thoughts on modernizing shopping centers.

Halfway through their meal, Allerton’s phone rang. Something urgent came up, and he had to leave.

She hesitated, then asked, “Mr. Fawcett, do you mean…”

“Don’t call me Mr. Fawcett—it sounds so distant. Just call me Terrell. And I’ll call you Isadora.”

…

Later, Isadora excused herself to go to the restroom.

As she walked down the corridor, passing a set of ornate double doors slightly ajar as a server brought in dishes, she caught a glimpse inside.

The private dining suite was lavish, centered around a grand round table of dark wood.

Inside sat Mrs. Fitzgerald—Deanna—and Victor, along with several distinguished guests from abroad, each exuding an air of wealth and authority.

Lost in thought, Isadora didn’t notice a server hurrying out until he accidentally bumped into her, splashing a bit of food onto her dress.

The young man paled and stammered an apology. “I’m so sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to—please forgive me.”

Isadora waved him off, not wanting to make a scene. “It’s fine, really.”

From his seat, Victor lounged back, his long fingers loosely wrapped around a teacup. Hearing the familiar voice at the door, he lifted his gaze and looked over.