Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 80

Given your guidelines, here is the culturally localized, natural English adaptation of your excerpt:

---

But knowing Richard, he was always ruthlessly pragmatic—everything boiled down to profit and power.

Even if she wasn’t willing, as long as Magnus and Richard struck some sort of deal, Richard would have her walking down the aisle without a second thought.

People liked to pretend society was modern and democratic now, but in elite circles, the old rules still reigned. Among the upper class, especially those old-school, controlling parents, marriage was just another business alliance—and their children’s objections meant nothing at all.

And with Magnus—arrogant, stubborn, dictatorial as ever—her wishes barely registered. In their eyes, she was just a pawn; her consent was irrelevant. In the end, she’d probably be forced into marriage whether she liked it or not.

Just the thought made her bristle with frustration.

No.

She absolutely refused to give in.

Isadora looked down, fiddling with the high neckline of her dress. Only she knew how vivid the marks on her skin really were, just below her collar. Her complexion was so fair and delicate, a careless touch was enough to leave deep bruises.

Victor—he had always been relentless in that way. The traces he left on her body were impossible to miss. Not that she had held back, either; her nails had left their own patterns all across his back.

The memory made Isadora smirk to herself.

Magnus, I’d love to see how you’d handle this.

A little while later, Isadora slipped into her wedding gown—layers of sheer fabric draped softly over her chest. She moved at her own pace, unhurried, as she stepped out to meet the others.

The staff at the bridal boutique couldn't help but gasp when they saw her.

They’d seen plenty of brides try on dresses, but never one who looked so ethereal, so dazzlingly angelic in white.

Isadora was stunning. The pure, ornate gown made her look as if she were glowing from within. Her long hair fell in loose waves; her features were striking, her skin luminous, her smile bright. The gown’s design traced every elegant curve, perfectly highlighting her silhouette—she was slender, but hardly frail; every line suggested strength beneath the softness.

He still didn’t get what was so special about Isadora—other than her looks, maybe—but she was, after all, Magnus’s fiancée. No matter how wild Victor’s tastes, he wouldn’t cross that line.

Besides, the wedding was already set.

With a grin, Finley allowed himself a moment of schadenfreude for his old friend. He pulled out his phone, zoomed in, and snapped a quick photo, spinning the phone in his hand as he sauntered out of the boutique.

—

Not far away, Magnus was on the phone when he heard the commotion behind him. He glanced back, eyes widening in astonishment as he lowered his phone.

“I’m not coming today,” he said curtly into the receiver. “If Elise gets worked up, just give her her medication. Gideon, I have my own life—I can’t spend every moment looking after her.”

He hung up.

Magnus strode forward, gaze fixed intently on the woman in white.