Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 89

Ever since Magnus had abandoned her at the bridal boutique, Isadora hadn’t seen him—not once in the past two days. She didn’t know if Richard had gone looking for him, and frankly, she couldn’t care less. Instead, she’d spent her time scheming up ways to make Richard cough up his shares in the company. But Richard was an old fox, shrewd and unshakeable; nothing but profit moved him, and neither threats nor persuasion worked.

With Nanette away on a location shoot in another city, Isadora had been staying at her place. This morning, right after a tense board meeting, Isadora collided head-on with a coworker in the hallway. Her arms were full of paperwork, and the jolt sent a sharp pain shooting through her wrist—the same spot Magnus had gripped so forcefully a few days ago. Even after long soaks in hot water, the bruise had only just begun to fade, and now, with a sickening crack, the pain came roaring back.

Her coworker paled when she realized who she’d crashed into, stammering apologies, nearly in tears. Isadora knew she hadn’t meant any harm and could only wave it off. Still, by the time she got back to her office, her wrist throbbed with a dull, persistent ache.

After a moment’s thought, she decided to visit a clinic and pick up some medication. The doctor told her she’d nearly dislocated her wrist—it was badly sprained, just shy of something worse. He prescribed anti-inflammatories and a medicated cream, assuring her that regular application would speed up her recovery.

On her way to the pharmacy, Isadora spotted Elise in the corridor, wearing hospital pajamas and flanked by a matronly nurse. The two women locked eyes from opposite ends of the hallway, the air between them crackling with unspoken animosity.

Elise had just finished a round of heart tests—her transplant surgery was scheduled for tomorrow. A storm of emotions churned inside her: hope, because Gideon had told her the odds of success were as high as eighty percent; dread, because she feared that once she was healthy, Magnus might stop doting on her as he always had. He’d barely answered her texts or calls lately, his voice distant and cold, refusing to visit unless it was strictly necessary—like today, when he needed to sign off on her surgery.

Anxiety gnawed at her, fed by the knowledge that Magnus had already taken Isadora to try on gowns from LA’s hottest wedding designer. The thought drove Elise into fits of jealous rage. She blamed Isadora for everything that had gone wrong between her and Magnus. Without that woman, none of this would have happened.