Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 353

Under Victor's intense, dangerous gaze, Isadora's heart skipped a beat.

She turned away, fixing her eyes on the road ahead. "I want to go back."

Victor didn't rush, taking his time as he withdrew his gaze. "Back to Summit Crest Estates?" he asked, his voice unhurried.

Isadora blinked, a little surprised. This man always found a way to regain the upper hand.

She was about to say no, but before she could speak, Victor smoothly turned the wheel and headed straight toward Summit Crest Estates.

He leaned back in the driver's seat, sounding almost lazy. "You'll need another checkup in a few days. I'll wait until your results are in before taking you home. Saves you from getting emotional again."

"I was not emotional!" Isadora shot back.

Victor glanced at her, amusement flickering in his eyes as he indulged her, "Alright, alright. I'll be the one getting emotional, is that better?"

Isadora knew she'd never win in a verbal spar with him, so she gave up and fell silent.

She lowered her head, thinking. Truthfully, she wasn't looking forward to being alone for her next checkup.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. "I don't have any clothes to change into."

"Don't worry," Victor replied, lips curving into a relaxed grin. "Worst case, you can borrow mine."

She wrinkled her nose. "No, thanks."

Seeing her expression, Victor's smile deepened. He reached over and ruffled her hair. "Silly girl."

Half an hour later, they pulled into Summit Crest Estates.

Walking inside again, Isadora felt a complicated mix of emotions. The last time she'd been here, she was packing up her things, believing she'd never return.

On the vanity, she spotted the sapphire bracelet, the one she hadn't seen in ages. She picked it up, staring at the unique cut of each sparkling blue gem, so bright and exquisite.

For a moment, her expression was unreadable. After a while, she placed the bracelet back on the table.

Choosing a simple, modest nightgown from the closet, she headed to the bathroom.

After a quick shower, Isadora wandered out into the living room and toward the kitchen.

There she found Victor standing at the counter, sleeves rolled up, forearms tense as he stirred something on the stove.

Hearing her footsteps, he glanced back, then ladled a steaming bowl of soup and brought it out.

Isadora's gaze followed him—a hearty, nourishing soup, thick and creamy, filled with wholesome ingredients, its aroma instantly awakening her appetite. Her stomach rumbled; she realized she was hungrier than she thought.

Victor sat down, swirling the spoon in the bowl as he looked at her.