Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 66

“Elise, if you’re not feeling well, ask Gideon. I can’t talk right now.”

Elise’s voice trembled. “Magnus, my chest hurts so much I can barely breathe. I don’t want Gideon, I just want you…”

On the other end, Gideon’s voice broke in, panicked. “Elise! Elise, what’s wrong? Why did you faint? Magnus, her breathing’s really shallow—get over here, now!”

Magnus’s jaw tightened, his expression hard as stone.

Without another word, he bolted for the elevator.

When it didn’t come fast enough, he didn’t hesitate—he sprinted down the stairs instead.

Isadora watched his retreating figure, disappearing without the slightest hesitation.

All she felt was a dull numbness.

This time, curiously, there was no sharp ache.

And why should there be?

After all the times her heart had been trampled—no, sliced open by him—if she still let herself hurt for him, it might just kill her.

She stooped to pick up her keys from the floor, unlocked the door, and stepped into her apartment.

In the bathroom, she ran a hot bath, filling the tub to the brim.

She soaked, letting the tension she’d carried while facing Magnus slowly ebb away.

Once she’d finished, Isadora slipped into a pink silk camisole nightdress, its deep V neckline skimming her thighs and showing off her long, pale legs.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Isadora tensed.

Could Magnus have come back?

No, impossible.

If experience had taught her anything, it was that Elise’s “illness” usually lasted the whole night.

She grabbed a long gray robe, wrapping herself up tight, and padded softly to the door.

Peeking through the peephole, she saw it wasn’t Magnus—but Victor.

Before he knew it, he was out of the car, finding the security guard, getting directions to Isadora’s building.

Isadora opened the door.

“Victor? What are you doing here so late?”

Victor stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, tall and lean in a shirt and dark pants. The sleeves were casually rolled up, showing off sinewy forearms. He leaned lazily against the frame, but his dark eyes fixed on her, steady and searching.

Fresh from her bath, Isadora’s skin was flushed, her hair tumbling in damp waves around her shoulders. The gray robe covered most of her, but her bare legs showed beneath, her feet tucked into navy slippers, toes pink against the soft fabric.

Victor’s gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper. His voice was low, almost rough. “What, am I not welcome?”

Isadora clutched her robe tighter. “It’s late, Victor. This isn’t really… a good time.”

His eyes flashed with a chill, lips twisting into a cold, ironic smile. “Oh, so it’s not convenient for me, but when Magnus comes by, that’s fine? Isadora, do you even remember what you promised me? You said you’d break things off with him, stay away. Have you?”

How did he know Magnus had just been here?

After being cornered by Magnus earlier, now to face Victor’s cool sarcasm—Isadora felt a surge of frustration, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.

“Victor, are you following me?”