Isadora arched an eyebrow.


    So Richard really did know exactly what she wanted. He was dangling the position of director in front of her like bait, tempting her with the one thing she couldn''t quite refuse.


    Well, it wasn''t as if she couldn''t give it a shot.


    Seeing the flicker of interest on Isadora''s face, Richard continued, "It''s not difficult. I''ve already looked into it. The manager of M Boutique and Magnus are old friends if you just reach out to Magnus..."


    He hadn''t finished before Isadora cut him off, patience running thin. "Dad, how I get it done is my business. You''ve always cared about results, not the process, haven''t you?"


    Magnus. There was no way she was going to contact him.


    Richard gave her a meaningful look and patted her shoulder. "Alright, then. I''ll wait for your good news."


    After he left, Isadora pulled up some research on M Boutique.


    M Boutique had a long, storied history in Northmarch-over a century old, originally serving the royal family and the upper crust of society. In recent years, it had tried to modernize, attracting a younger, affluent clientele, but it was still a luxury brand, strictly for those who could afford it.


    A brand like that wouldn''t set up shop just anywhere; they''d be selective about which mall they entered.


    The Vaughan Group''s mall was a general-purpose galleria, not exactly a luxury haven. Landing M Boutique would be anything but easy.


    But if she could bring M Boutique to the Vaughan Galleria, it would mean a huge step up for the entire Vaughan Group-a move straight into the upper echelons.


    Isadora pondered for a while, but she couldn''t see a way forward. The Vaughan Group didn''t have any unique advantages or selling points.


    Suddenly, Victor''s impossibly handsome face shed through her mind.


    The CEO of Capitolion, the most elite family in town-if he was willing to help, everything would be so much easier.


    She shook her head at the thought.


    Eighty million dors, and just like that, she''d be Victor''s woman. If she went


    to him for help again, she''d probably lose whatever pride she had left.


    No. She needed to find another way.


    Outside, evening had already fallen. She nced at the clock-almost 7 p.m.


    Earlier that afternoon, Victor had messaged her: Come to my ce.


    Leaving the office, Isadora debated for a moment before driving straight to Stratus Manor.


    Her emotions were a tangled mess on the way over. Thest time she''de to Stratus Manor, it was as a supplicant, desperate for help. This time, it was as his girlfriend.


    When she arrived, the security guards seemed to recognize her car; the ornate wrought-iron gates swung open without hesitation.


    She didn''t drive in right away. For a moment, she thought she caught the security guard exchanging a knowing look in the rearview mirror, but maybe she was just imagining things.


    Following their directions, she pulled into the vast, stately parking lot. There, row after row of pristine, limited-edition luxury cars gleamed in the fading light-at least a dozen, maybe more.


    Even someone like her, who didn''t know much about cars, could sense the aura of money that hung over the ce.


    Each car had to be worth millions. She couldn''t help but wonder if, given their new rtionship, she could borrow one for a joyride.


    Suppressing a smile, Isadora locked her car and turned around-only to see Victor standing there, arms crossed, leaning casually against the wall, a faintly amused smile ying on his lips.


    Moonlight softened his features, lending him a gentleness she''d never seen before.


    Their eyes met unexpectedly, and Isadora felt her cheeks grow warm. All the nervousness she''d kept under control during the drive surged up at once.


    A chilly autumn breeze swept past, making the hem of her pale-grey dress ripple and cast shifting shadows on the ground.


    She hadn''t even managed to say anything before, all of a sudden, Pudding came barreling toward her from across the lot, shattering the tension.


    A blur of white fur shot at her at full speed, and Isadora instinctively braced herself for impact.


    But Victor''szy drawl cut through the air: "Pudding, stop."


    Just like that, the furry missile screeched to a halt half a meter away, not a second too soon.


    Pudding looked up at her with big, soulful eyes, as if pleading for affection.


    Isadora''s heart melted. She crouched down and ruffled Pudding''s soft head. "Hey, sweetheart, you''re alright."


    Victor strolled over, his voice rxed but a little teasing. "You''d crush her if you jumped, you know. You have no idea how heavy you are?"


    Pudding barked indignantly.


    Isadora shot Victor a look. "Don''t be mean."


    "Me? Mean?" Victor grinned, ncing at her with feigned innocence. "You sure you know your own weight?"


    She bristled. "I''m a perfect size, thank you very much."


    He was always going on about how thin she was, as if she didn''t know that being five-foot-five and ny-five pounds was perfectly healthy.


    Victor''s gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate. He leaned in, voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur beside her ear. "Mm. Perfect, indeed."