Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 414

There was a new addition in the office—a golf putting green now sprawled along one side.

Isadora looked around and raised an eyebrow. "So, why'd you bring me to your office?"

Before she could say more, Victor slipped his arms around her, pulling her petite frame back against his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder, his voice low and teasing. "From now on, you can come in here whenever you want."

She crossed her arms and gave a little huff. "I have better things to do than check up on you."

Victor chuckled softly and pinched her cheek. "You know, not just anyone gets that privilege."

"Maybe you should let someone else in, then?"

He just smiled, his tone lazy and magnetic. "Sorry, but there's no room left in here." He tapped his chest lightly, eyes glinting. "Someone's already taken up all the space."

Isadora couldn't help herself—her lips curled into a smile.

A warm glow lit up her face, like sunlight on a summer afternoon. She relaxed, leaning back into his broad chest, turning her head to look at him.

His profile was as striking as ever—sharp jawline, high-bridged nose, every angle impossibly handsome. Sometimes she wondered how he could still make her heart flutter.

Suddenly, memories surfaced—the last time she'd come to this very office. It was when she'd arranged the transfer of the remaining four hundred million for The Vaughan Group, and Victor had laid out his condition: she'd have to be his girlfriend.

That was the beginning of their story.

The thought made her smile deepen. Absently, she traced slow circles on his arm with her fingers, delicate as spring onions, savoring the closeness.

He tipped her chin up, his gaze unwavering, voice both earnest and tender. "Listen to me, Isadora. I fell in love with you a long time ago."

She stared into his eyes—so deep, so mysterious, like the midnight sky: endless, gentle, and absolutely captivating.

Isadora leaned back a bit, almost unconsciously. Her hand brushed against a photo frame on the desk. She glanced down—it was the same picture she hadn't seen clearly before: a little girl and a dog.

She remembered now. That was Victor's first love, his "one that got away."

Right then, she didn't want to hear about another woman from Victor's lips. Instinctively, she slid off the desk, putting distance between them.

"I… I should get going," she said quietly.