Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 181

Isadora came to in a warehouse.

It wasn’t especially large or small—just a dim, chilly space lined with stacks of lumber and steel beams. A battered wooden table and chair stood near the heavy metal door.

Her hands were tied behind her back, her mouth stuffed with a wad of cloth. A lingering numbness in her limbs reminded her of the drug; she was weak, barely able to move.

For a split second, she was transported back to the memory of her last kidnapping.

A cold shudder ran down her spine. Fear crept in, icy and relentless.

Suddenly, the metal door screeched open from the outside.

Blinding white light flooded the room. Then, as the door slammed shut, the space plunged back into gloom.

A muscular man in black jeans and a black shirt stalked in.

“Mmmph…”

The next instant, the cloth was yanked from Isadora’s mouth.

The kidnapper wore a black mask, revealing only a pair of fierce, predatory eyes.

“Miss Vaughan. We meet again.”

The voice sent a jolt of recognition through her. “It’s you…”

“You slipped away last time. This time, you won’t get so lucky.”

Isadora’s voice trembled. “Who sent you? If it’s money you want, I can— I can pay.”

The kidnapper sneered. “Last time you took my little cocktail, and that guy came charging in to play hero. Lucky for him.”

He lingered on the thought, eyes raking over her helpless form. She could see the gleam in his eyes—the disgustingly eager anticipation.

He reached out, his hand extending toward Isadora’s pale cheek.

Before he could touch her, another man appeared in the doorway—a tall guy with a jagged scar running down his face.

“Knock it off,” the scarred man growled. “That guy who showed up last time put half of us in the hospital for months. We’re just here for the money. Once we get paid, we’re out of Capitolion.”

The first kidnapper shrugged, pulling his hand back and rubbing his nose.

A moment later, a woman was shoved through the door—elegant, statuesque, and perfectly composed in a forest-green knit dress.

The scarred kidnapper flashed a sly, twisted grin. “Well, look at that. Magnus’s past and present all in one place. You ladies have a lot to catch up on.”

He locked eyes with Elise for a moment. Then both men stepped out, slamming the door behind them.

Elise stood tall and untouched, her hands free, her poise unbroken. She looked down at Isadora with a cold, sharp gaze.

Isadora sat huddled against the wall—her clothes filthy and wrinkled, her hands still tied, helpless.

Something about this felt wrong.