Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 339

The men in the private suite finally got down to business.

The entire conversation revolved around the development of a lucrative plot of land on the southern outskirts of Capitolion—and just how many millions it would take to make it happen.

Everyone present made a show of deference to Victor, the young “prince” of the group, eager to let The Fitzgerald Group take the lead on the project. But as the discussion shifted, it became clear that Preston’s interests might be at stake.

Rowena felt Preston’s hand tighten suddenly around her waist, so hard it made her gasp.

He shot her an irritated glance. “What’s wrong with you?”

She stiffened, forcing a strained smile. “Nothing.”

It was obvious Preston was in a foul mood, but with Victor there, he had to bite his tongue and instead took it out on her.

With a cold, almost predatory smirk, Preston leaned in and murmured, “If you’re this sensitive from just a squeeze, how are you going to make it through tonight?”

Mr. Lennox, seated nearby, raised his eyebrows and drawled suggestively, “Come on, Preston, she’s a delicate one. Try not to break her.”

The men’s banter made Rowena’s face pale even further. She shot a furtive glance toward Victor—thankfully, he wasn’t paying them any attention, which let her breathe just a little easier, though resentment simmered beneath her relief.

The conversation eventually wound down. When she saw Victor answer a call and step outside, Rowena seized her chance. She ran her fingers lightly along Preston’s chest. “Mr. Dunbar, I need to use the restroom.”

He grunted. “You’re not thinking of running off, are you?”

“Of course not. I came here tonight just to see you,” she replied, her tone sweet but her mind already scheming.

She wasn’t trying to escape—not exactly. She was looking to trade up. After all, of everyone in that suite, Victor Fitzgerald was the one with real power. Why waste her time on a bloated, middle-aged married man like Preston, when she could aim for the very top?

Thud. Instead of falling into a man’s warm embrace, Rowena crashed face-first into the wall, her shoulder instantly reddening from the impact.

“What exactly do you want me to save you from?” Victor’s voice was flat, entirely devoid of sympathy.

Rowena bit her lip, turning to face him with reddened eyes, the perfect picture of helpless seduction. “Mr. Fitzgerald, I didn’t want to bother you, but I have no one else. Mr. Dunbar forced me to come here tonight. If you don’t help me, I’m afraid he’ll—he’ll do something awful to me…”

Victor’s expression didn’t even flicker. His eyes were ice-cold, his words even colder: “That’s not my problem.”

Rowena blinked, thrown by his utter indifference. A wave of jealousy surged, sharp and poisonous, and she blurted out, “Is Isadora the only woman you see?”

Victor’s lips twisted into a mocking, frosty smile. “Ms. Blaine, you’re overstepping.”