Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 403

Fitzgerald Manor, Dining Room.

Victor dismissed the staff, sending them quietly out of the room.

At last, the dining room fell into a welcome silence, as if the chaos from moments ago had never happened. Now, only she and Victor remained.

Isadora, still unsettled by everything she'd blurted out earlier, pushed back her chair and stood. "Um... I should head to work."

She turned to leave, but before she could even take a step, Victor's strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her gently onto his lap. His embrace was solid, enveloping her completely.

Victor reached for a bowl of nourishing breakfast porridge, his every movement elegant and composed, and scooped up a spoonful for her.

"You hardly ate a thing. Have some breakfast before you go."

Isadora gazed at the spoon he held to her lips, then took a sip. She swallowed, then risked a glance at his face.

He looked as composed and handsome as ever, his long lashes casting soft shadows over his unreadable, obsidian eyes—like none of the earlier drama had touched him at all.

Victor raised his eyes, catching her cautious, searching gaze. His deep voice sounded almost nonchalant. "What is it? Is there something on my face?"

Isadora looked away, cheeks burning as she remembered her outburst.

Now she really did look like the woman who'd used a baby to secure her place.

She hesitated, then tried to explain. "About earlier…"

Victor's eyes softened as he studied her. He reached up and gently brushed a lock of hair from her face, his tone carrying a fond, teasing warmth. "You did great back there."

Her lashes fluttered, surprised by his praise.

She'd just turned the Fitzgerald family upside down yet again.

"Victor, Deanna is your grandmother. Aren't you angry with me? Did I cross a line…"

His expression didn't change, but coldness flickered in his eyes.

When Deanna had picked up that knife and lunged at Isadora, she might as well have turned it on him, too.

She tried to regain her composure. "Who says I'm crying?"

Victor laughed, a soft, indulgent sound that seemed to settle deep into his bones. "Alright, my mistake."

He brushed his thumb across her lips, his voice low and teasing. "Isadora, say my name again."

"What?"

His eyes sparkled mischievously as he looked at her, a playful, expectant glint lighting up his features. "What did you call me just now, hmm?"

She'd called him "husband"—just to get a rise out of Deanna.

Now, under his intense gaze, her cheeks burned red.

She'd only said it to provoke someone, not because she meant it.

But Victor wasn't letting her off the hook; he waited, eyes fixed on her, clearly unwilling to give up.