Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 439

"Wait for me, I'll be right there."

Isadora flagged down a maid with a ponytail and asked where the storage room was.

The maid pointed her in the right direction.

Isadora asked her to find two people to come along and help.

The ponytailed maid shot her a quick glance and nodded, then hurried off.

The storage building at Walsh Manor was a fair distance from the banquet hall, down a narrow path that twisted through the estate grounds.

Streetlights cast a dim, yellowish glow, the wind rattling the branches overhead. Compared to the bright, lively lights of the banquet hall, the path felt like another world—one shrouded in darkness and unease.

As Isadora walked further, the air grew colder, and the shadows deeper.

She spotted the warehouse ahead, its doors standing wide open.

Just as she was about to step inside, she hesitated, stopping short before the entrance.

Instead, she pressed herself to the wall nearby, waiting and listening.

Just in case something unexpected happened, she decided to send Victor a message.

She pulled out her phone—only to realize she had no signal.

That's when Isadora's instincts prickled with alarm.

Why had Wendy happened to fall near the warehouse, of all places? And now, right as Isadora arrived, her phone had lost signal?

She decided it was safer to return to the party, find Victor, and come back for Wendy later.

She turned to leave.

Suddenly, a terrified scream echoed out from inside the warehouse—Wendy's voice, unmistakable.

Isadora froze, then clenched her jaw and rushed inside, setting her fears aside.

"Wendy, what happened?"

Wendy, huddled near the door, recognized Isadora's shadowy outline and let out a breath of relief.

"All the lights went out at once. I thought I saw a ghost at the window—it scared me half to death!"

A blast of icy air hit them, sharp as knives. The temperature inside had to be below freezing, and the room was packed with the Walsh family's finest gourmet foods.

The cold seeped into their skin with every breath, sending chills straight to the bone.

A few minutes passed.

Isadora, weakened from her pregnancy, was shivering uncontrollably, her lips turning visibly blue.

Wendy, forgetting her own pain, quickly shrugged off her vest and wrapped it around Isadora's shoulders.

But it did little to help. Both women were dressed lightly—Isadora in her evening dress, hardly protection against the bitter cold.

Even a man in a thick winter coat would be frozen stiff after a night in here—let alone the two of them.

Wendy was shivering so hard her teeth chattered. "Isadora, are you… are you okay?"

Isadora gritted her teeth, fighting the cold. "I'll be fine."

Suddenly, Wendy glanced down and noticed a dark stain spreading on the hem of Isadora's dress. Her face went pale as fear welled up in her eyes.

"Isadora, you're… you're bleeding. Oh God, please don't scare me!"