Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 44

“Alright, alright, superstar.” Isadora asked, “Hey, superstar, do you know anyone who can get in touch with Victor? Or know how to reach him?”

“You’re looking for Victor? The heir to the Fitzgerald family over in Capitolion?”

“That’s right.”

Nanette tapped her nails thoughtfully. “I wish I knew him too. If the Fitzgerald family ever invested in my movie, I’d go international overnight. But there’s this supporting actress, Patricia Brooks, who never shuts up about him on set—just because she’s from some big family, she acts like she’s besties with Victor.”

“I vaguely remember her saying the heir spends a lot of time at Stratus Manor.”

“Stratus Manor? You mean the one perched at the top of Northcrest Hill?”

That whole ridge was lined with luxury estates, but above the halfway point, there was only one mansion—

Stratus Manor.

Everyone in Capitolion knew the Fitzgeralds owned everything up there.

Something about the conversation struck Nanette as odd.

“Wait, Isadora, why are you suddenly asking about another man? What happened to Magnus?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. We broke up.”

“Seriously? You actually broke it off? You could let him go? Wasn’t Magnus your darling?”

Darling? Give me a break.

Just hearing Nanette call Magnus her “darling” made Isadora’s skin crawl now.

“It’s true. We really broke up this time. Like you always said! Why should I lower myself and chase after Magnus like some lovesick puppy?”

Nanette sounded skeptical; after all, Isadora had vented about him so many times before.

“Isadora, did Magnus save your life in a past life or something? You loved him so much you were practically willing to share him with a snake like Elise. You really know how to embarrass yourself, girl.”

With that, Isadora could only give a bitter smile.

“Nanette, you don’t get it. That’s just love.”

Love?

The guard eyed her—bright, clear features, businesslike in a crisp shirt.

Not like the women who usually showed up here, dressed to the nines, all flash and bare skin.

“Every woman who comes here claims to be Mr. Fitzgerald’s good friend. Some even say they’re his girlfriend. Miss, you’ll have to do better than that.”

Isadora: “…”

Fair enough. She’d clearly underestimated Victor’s appeal in Capitolion.

Just then—

A chorus of frantic barking erupted.

A ball of white fluff—Pudding—came bounding out toward the gate.

Behind him, the dog-sitter, Beatty, gave chase, out of breath and flustered.

“Oh no, Pudding, slow down! Somebody stop him! He usually never leaves the garden, but today he’s running wild all the way to the gate. What’s gotten into him?”