Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 278

The voice was cold—so cold, it seemed to carry no trace of warmth at all.

Yet Victor recognized it instantly. It was Isadora’s voice.

Hearing this, Victor’s expression barely changed, save for a slight darkening of his features. But Deanna noticed the way his hand, clutching the small recorder, turned white-knuckled. Slowly, a faint, grim smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

Her precious grandson, Victor, had grown up at the very top of the world.

From childhood, he’d been raised under the Fitzgerald family’s unyielding standards for an heir: ruthless, decisive, relentlessly logical. That cold-blooded resolve, that calculating mind, and—deeper still—a bone-deep detachment from emotion... These were the qualities Dorian and Deanna once took the most pride in.

Only with such traits could he be a worthy successor to the Fitzgerald name, the only one capable of leading the family’s empire into its next century.

Deanna had never imagined a woman could threaten all of that.

And she would never allow it.

“Victor, money means nothing to us. But I won’t tolerate anyone deceiving you or hurting you. That woman doesn’t love you. She’s only using you to climb higher.”

The heavy silence in the grand hall stretched on, oppressive and thick.

Victor’s gaze was unreadable, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful.

Under the icy brilliance of the crystal chandeliers, his shadow stretched long and severe against the floor—sharp-edged and forbidding.

With a sudden crash, he hurled the recorder to the ground. Without a word, he turned and strode out, his footsteps echoing behind him.

*

Vaughan Manor.

For the past two days, Isadora hadn’t gone back to Summit Crest Estates after work.

Ever since she’d forced Richard and Prescott out, the housekeeper had cleared out every last trace of their belongings. Still, little reminders of their presence lingered everywhere.

Isadora was already making plans to sell the place and buy a new home.

Eleanor, too, had changed—subtly, but unmistakably—since everything that had happened.