Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 64

She missed him—desperately, in fact. Even though she was exhausted after wrapping up her latest project, she’d rushed straight from work to Magnus’s house. She texted him on the way and spent the evening cooking a whole table’s worth of food.

She could hardly wait for their dinner together.

But by eleven o’clock, her phone was still silent.

Even the housekeeper kept stepping out, glancing uneasily at Isadora, who sat alone at the sprawling dining table, disappointment written all over her face.

It was nearly midnight when Magnus finally walked through the door.

He took one look at the spread of now-cold dishes and simply frowned.

Isadora couldn’t keep it in any longer. “If you weren’t coming home for dinner, why didn’t you just tell me?”

Magnus just shrugged. “I thought I texted you back.”

What a joke.

Isadora’s face went cold.

Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose, irritation heavy in his voice. “Isadora, I’m busy. If it’s important, call me. Don’t just send a message.”

Oh, please. Did he think she hadn’t tried? His phone had been switched off!

And yet, Victor was busy too—he was CEO of a major corporation. But at least he always made the effort to reply, even if just as a friend.

So, honestly, if someone loves you, how could they forget to respond, leaving you waiting all night?

Thank God she was finally moving on.

—

The afternoon meeting dragged on much longer than expected.

By the time Isadora got back to Brocade Heights, it was nearly 8 p.m.

Her apartment was on the eighteenth floor, three units per floor.

When the elevator doors slid open, she spotted a familiar figure standing outside her door.

She blinked. Magnus.

He was still in his black suit, tie perfectly knotted, looking like he’d just walked out of a boardroom—sharp, imposing, and distant. His brows were drawn together, and there were dark circles under his eyes, as though he’d been waiting a long time.

What was he doing here? He’d always complained her place was too small, too cramped—he’d never visited before.

Isadora felt his stare burning into her, making her skin crawl. She kept her head down, determined to ignore him, and hurried to her door.

She fished for her keys, ready to unlock the door, when suddenly Magnus grabbed her hand—keys and all—yanking her toward him. The keys clattered to the floor, and she stumbled, nearly falling against his chest.

She shoved him away.

“Magnus, what the hell are you doing?”

His dark eyes bored into her, voice low but strained. “Isadora, have you finished with your little scene yet?”

She almost laughed at that.

A scene?

In his eyes, everything she did was just “making a scene”—which was exactly why he didn’t care. He always thought he could use his influence, use his investment in The Vaughan Group, to pressure her into backing down.

Isadora met his gaze, her voice icy. “You think this is me making a scene?”

Magnus let out a cold, dismissive laugh. “Isn’t it?”

“You know Victor and I are rivals, and you went to him for investment in the Vaughan family on purpose. Isadora, you’re just trying to piss me off, to get me to give in. You’re getting better at playing games.”