"Elise, if you''re not feeling well, ask Gideon. I can''t talk right now."
Elise''s voice trembled. "Magnus, my chest hurts so much I can barely breathe. I don''t want Gideon, I just want you..."
On the other end, Gideon''s voice broke in, panicked. "Elise! Elise, what''s wrong? Why did you faint? Magnus, her breathing''s really shallow get over here, now!"
Magnus''s jaw tightened, his expression hard as stone.
Without another word, he bolted for the elevator.
When it didn''te fast enough, he didn''t hesitate he sprinted down the stairs instead.
Isadora watched his retreating figure, disappearing without the slightest hesitation.
All she felt was a dull numbness.
This time, curiously, there was no sharp ache.
And why should there be?
After all the times her heart had been trampled-no, sliced open by him—if she still let herself hurt for him, it might just kill her.
She stooped to pick up her keys from the floor, unlocked the door, and stepped into her apartment.
In the bathroom, she ran a hot bath, filling the tub to the brim.
She soaked, letting the tension she''d carried while facing Magnus slowly ebb away.
Once she''d finished, Isadora slipped into a pink silk camisole nightdress, its deep
V neckline skimming her thighs and showing off her long, pale legs.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
Isadora tensed.
Could Magnus havee back?
No, impossible.
If experience had taught her anything, it was that Elise''s "illness" usuallysted the whole night.
She grabbed a long gray robe, wrapping herself up tight, and padded softly to the door.
Peeking through the peephole, she saw it wasn''t Magnus-but Victor.
What was he doing here at this hour? Was something wrong?
Victor had been out at a business dinner that evening, and had a few drinks.
Afterward, his driver asked where to go.
Without thinking, Victor blurted out, "Brocade Heights."
It wasn''t until the car stopped outside that he realized he''de to Isadora''s building.
It waste-he hadn''t nned to go up.
He only wanted to linger downstairs for a while, to be close to her, to look up at the city''s star-sttered sky. Just being near her filled him with a sense of peace he''d never known before.
Just then, a Rolls-Royce glided past his car, turning heads in the middle of this ordinary apartmentplex. The rare, limited-edition luxury car looked utterly out of ce.
Victor nced over, only to see Magnus behind the wheel.
What was Magnus doing here?
Had something happened between him and Isadora?
A wave of agitation rose in Victor''s chest.
Before he knew it, he was out of the car, finding the security guard, getting
directions to Isadora''s building.
Isadora opened the door.
"Victor? What are you doing here sote?"
Victor stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, tall and lean in a shirt and dark
pants. The sleeves were casually rolled up, showing off sinewy forearms. He leanedzily against the frame, but his dark eyes fixed on her, steady and searching.
Fresh from her bath, Isadora''s skin was flushed, her hair tumbling in damp waves around her shoulders. The gray robe covered most of her, but her bare legs showed beneath, her feet tucked into navy slippers, toes pink against the soft fabric.
Victor''s gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper. His voice was low, almost rough. "What, am I not wee?"
Isadora clutched her robe tighter. "It''ste, Victor. This isn''t really... a good time."
His eyes shed with a chill, lips twisting into a cold, ironic smile. "Oh, so it''s not convenient for me, but when Magnuses by, that''s fine? Isadora, do you even remember what you promised me? You said you''d break things off with him, stay away. Have you?"
How did he know Magnus had just been here?
After being cornered by Magnus earlier, now to face Victor''s cool sarcasm- Isadora felt a surge of frustration, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.
"Victor, are you following me?"