Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 382

"Sorry."

Terrell moved in, reaching out to embrace her.

But Isadora immediately stepped back, putting a careful distance between them.

Terrell's hand hung awkwardly in the air. He couldn't hold back—his words came out sharp: "When you needed him the most, he still didn't show up. Why can't you just let him go?"

Isadora looked up, meeting his gaze.

"Mr. Fawcett," she replied evenly, "even if Victor and I aren't together, I have no intention of settling for someone else just for the sake of it. That's only fair to you."

"I don't mind," Terrell said, his eyes fixed on her, unwavering.

He could see right through her—see the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide behind her mask. It made his chest ache, this urge to protect her growing stronger by the second.

"I don't care if you're cruel to me, Isadora. All I want is a chance."

As he finished, Terrell gently rested his hand on her shoulder.

Isadora's brow furrowed.

Realizing he'd crossed a line, Terrell quickly withdrew his hand.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice low. "I just lost my temper tonight."

Isadora's expression didn't change. "Mr. Fawcett, please don't waste your time on me."

Terrell let out a bitter laugh. "Even now, after all he's done, you still choose him, don't you?"

Isadora stayed silent.

Right now, choosing Victor was the last thing on her mind.

What mattered more was seeing Deanna and Rowena get what they deserved.

*

Fitzgerald Manor.

The massive flat-screen TV was tuned to the evening news, broadcasting coverage of The Vaughan Group's press conference.

On screen, the anchor summarized:

Deanna took a slow sip of her tea, unhurried. "Show her in."

Rowena entered the old mansion again, this time with far less hesitation than before. She approached and gave Deanna a respectful nod.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Fitzgerald."

Deanna regarded her coolly. "You did well."

She glanced at Pattie, who nodded and brought over two large black suitcases, setting them on the table. When they were opened, they revealed stacks of crisp red bills.

A satisfied smile curled at Rowena's lips.

Deanna set down her teacup.

"There's five million pounds in cash here."

"Thank you, Mrs. Fitzgerald," Rowena replied, her mind already working.

"If you're pleased with my work, perhaps we could collaborate again?"