Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 98

The impact on Wainwright Holdings’ stock was disastrous—it hit rock bottom.

And let’s be honest, everyone knows Victor, the golden boy—he’s a black belt in taekwondo, top rank. There’s no way Magnus was ever going to come out ahead in that confrontation.

Sammy quickly stepped in, blocking Magnus’s way and plastering on a nervous smile. “Victor, he’s had too much to drink. Please, don’t take it personally. I’ll get him out of here, right now. Come on, Magnus, let’s go.”

Magnus tried to shake him off, slurring, “Let go of me, let go.”

“Lean’s waiting with the car outside. You’re drunk, let me take you home,” Sammy insisted, tightening his grip.

It took all Sammy’s strength to drag a reluctant Magnus out the door.

Victor stood there, eyes lowered, yanking off his tie. There was an authority about him, a pressure that filled the room.

After a long moment, a bitter, pale smile crept onto his face.

No matter how much more successful he was than Magnus in business, he had to admit it—he was jealous. Jealous that Isadora loved Magnus, jealous that she chose to be with him. The jealousy was eating him alive.

—

That morning, on her way to the office, Isadora’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing—Richard had called her over and over, clearly desperate about something, though he never explained what it was.

So as soon as she arrived, she went straight to his office.

She paused outside the door to the CEO’s suite, knocked twice, then pushed it open.

Richard was inside, smoking. Behind him, Leif, the head of project management, seemed to be giving a report.

The air was thick with smoke, sharp and acrid.

Richard turned, nodded at Leif.

Leif placed a stack of files on the desk and quietly left.

Isadora walked up to the desk. “Dad, what’s going on?”

But Victor didn’t strike her as the petty type—surely he wouldn’t pull the investment just because she called it a one-night stand.

From what she remembered, Victor always carried himself with a certain confidence—a sense of old money, charm, and a kind of effortless generosity.

In Capitolion, hardly anyone was wealthier than the Fitzgeralds; this sum was nothing to them.

But looking at Richard’s anxious face, she said, “Dad, our Global Project was budgeted for forty million. Even if The Fitzgerald Group cancels the rest, we can still move forward.”

“You’re wrong,” Richard cut in. “The original plan was forty million, but when Fitzgerald agreed to invest eighty, I expanded the project with additional features. Now, forty million isn’t enough to cover the revised plan.”

Isadora finally understood—he wanted her to chase The Fitzgerald Group for the money.

She settled into the couch, arms folded, her tone suddenly relaxed. “So, what exactly do you want me to do?”

Richard’s frown deepened. “You brought in this investment. You go find out when they’re going to transfer the remaining forty million.”

A sly smile tugged at Isadora’s lips. “Dad, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten—you still haven’t given me my shares.”