Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 316

Isadora was in a foul mood.

Seriously, what danger could possibly lurk in the couple hundred yards between the apartment complex gate and her front door?

She ignored Victor, striding ahead on her own.

Hands shoved in his pockets, Victor followed at an unhurried pace, watching the hem of her dress flick up in a neat little arc with every step.

They reached her door.

Isadora quickly fished out her keys, unlocked the door, and braced herself in the doorway, blocking his entry.

“We’re home now. You can go.”

Victor lifted his gaze lazily, his eyes settling on her hand clenched tight against the door—guarded, as if she expected trouble. He gave a cold, mocking smile.

“What’s the matter? Is someone inside you don’t want me to see?”

It hit Isadora, just then, that everything she’d said to him tonight—all the serious, heartfelt words—had been for nothing.

He hadn’t listened to a single word.

Her face hardened. “Victor, let me say this one more time. The baby is *mine*. I’ll raise it on my own.”

With that, she slammed the door in his face.

Bang!

Victor stared at the closed smart door, and couldn’t help but let out a half-angry, half-amused chuckle.

He wondered what on earth this woman had been eating lately—her attitude had gotten sharper, her backbone stiffer.

She was the one who first talked about getting rid of the baby. Now she wanted to keep it and claimed she could handle it alone.

Women. Did they really make decisions like this on a whim?

Right then, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen and answered.

On the other end, Finley’s voice came through, light and teasing. “Hey, Prince Charming, how did it go tonight? Did you finally win over our dear Isadora?”

Victor shot a look at the tightly shut door and replied offhandedly, “When did you start working for the secret service?”

Finley gave a sheepish laugh.

Typical Victor—never one to share much.

It wasn’t just the Fitzgeralds who cared about pedigree and reputation—his own family, the Pembrokes, were just as strict about these things.

If he ever got some girl pregnant by accident, Mrs. Pembroke would either insist on keeping the baby and ditching the mother, or—more likely—never let the child be born at all.

The thought made Finley curious. “Don’t tell me you actually want to marry her? I bet your grandmother would be the first to put a stop to that.”

Victor’s gaze grew thoughtful.

Isadora had asked him the same question earlier.

He hesitated—not because he didn’t want to, but because he was afraid of what might happen to Isadora.

If she married him, becoming Mrs. Fitzgerald, she’d be signing up for a life of scrutiny and pressure.

But there was no way he’d let his own child exist out there in the world, unacknowledged and alone.

Victor fixed Finley with a brooding stare. “If you were me, what would you do?”

Finley gave a careless laugh. “Me? My motto is live free and easy. Kids and women just slow you down. If some girl ended up pregnant, I’d pay her and make sure it was taken care of.”

Victor snorted. “Remind me never to ask you for advice again.”