Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 415

"Where to?" Victor asked.

"Home," Isadora replied, her voice soft and tired.

"Aren't you going to look at the photo before we head back?"

Isadora squeezed her eyes shut, burying her head like an ostrich. "I don't want to see it. Everyone has a past, and I respect yours."

Victor let out a light chuckle.

He could tell, just from the look on her face, that she'd gotten the wrong idea. His lips curled into a gentle smile, the sound of it low and teasing.

"Isadora, what wild ideas are you spinning in that head of yours, hmm?"

"I'm not—" She bristled. "I'm not imagining anything."

"If you're not, then why are you so afraid to look?" Victor teased, his deep voice laced with amusement. "Worried you'll see another woman in the picture?"

His words made her cheeks flush with embarrassment and irritation. With a huff, Isadora tried to stride away, but Victor caught her hand before she could escape.

In the next instant, he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close. With his other hand, he picked up the photo and held it out in front of her, his voice slow and playful. "What's the matter? Do you need me to introduce you to yourself?"

Me? She thought, incredulous. Impossible.

"What are you talking about?"

"Look carefully. If that little girl isn't you, then who is she?"

Victor's voice echoed in her ears, low and languid, tinged with mischief.

Again and again, the words rang out, clear and certain.

They struck right at her heart.

After a long pause, Isadora finally reached out and slowly picked up the framed photograph.

The picture Victor had always called his "first love" was right in front of her, plain as day.

A young girl, her face turned in profile—soft features, bright eyes—wearing a blue-and-white dress with a patch on it that read Pudding.

She was crouched down, playing and hugging a little dog.

Suddenly, a flash of memory crashed through Isadora's mind like lightning.

That dress—Carla's friend from the hospital had given it to her.

She remembered the day Carla, in a fit of anger, yanked at the dress and tore it.