Hearing those words, Isadora let out a coldugh inside.
All this time, she had thought Victor felt something different for her.
Maybe he didn''t love her. But perhaps, she''d hoped, he liked her at least a little.
So it turned out, everything he''d done for hertely was simply because it pleased him.
To him, she had always been just a game.
Of course. Wasn''t that how she''d seen it at the start, too?
So why had she let herself get caught up in it?
Isadora turned her face away, a bitter ache rising in her chest until it stung behind
her eyes.
"What''s wrong? Having second thoughts?"
Victor was angry-furious at how she always seemed to be pushing him away.
It felt like someone had stabbed a de straight through his chest, leaving him raw and bleeding.
The more it hurt, the more he wanted her to know: She could only ever belong to him.
"Isadora, when you came to me for a spot at M Boutique, you must have known this day woulde."
Isadora bit her lip, eyes burning, but forced herself to stay calm.
She took a shaky breath. "I know the rules of the game, Mr. Fitzgerald. You don''t need to remind me."
Victor leaned in, whispering against her ear with the intimacy of a devoted lover, his low, husky voice grazing her skin.
"So remember-if we ever break up, it''ll be on my terms."
Even angry, Isadora''s body betrayed her, shivering at his touch.
"Are you finished? Because I have work to do."
The next second, Victor let go of her hand with careless indifference.
Isadora quickly grabbed the door handle and flung the car door open.
Behind her, his deep, velvet voice drifted over:
“Be at Summit Crest Estates tonight. Don''t make me wait."
Before she could reply, the car door mmed shut, cutting them off.
She stood for a moment beside the limited-edition Rolls-Royce, the wind tugging
at her skirt and tossing strands of hair across her face. Somewhere in her eyes, a single crystal tear vanished into the evening air.
*
By the time Isadora took the elevator up to Seafarer Designs, Rowena had already returned, a sheaf of sketches in hand.
She looked defeated, nothing left of her usual morning confidence.
Wendy stood by, fidgeting, her gaze darting everywhere but at Isadora.
Isadora walked over, feeling like she''d juste through a war, and said tly,
"I am that unlucky fiancée of Magnus, but it''s over now."
Wendy realized she''d been caught eavesdropping and blurted out in a whisper,
"I''m sorry, Isadora. I promise, no more gossiping."
Rowena looked up at the sound, "What are you two talking about?"
Isadora had alreadyposed herself on her way up.
"It''s nothing. How did your meeting go today?"
Rowena slumped even lower.
"Isadora, I think you should pull your investment. I don''t want to drag you down. I''m a jinx-first the divorce wiped out everything the ine family had, and now I can''t even get my career off the ground."
Isadora pulled up a chair beside her.
"I just got here and you''re already trying to kick me out? That''s not fair, Rowena. Besides, I''m a shareholder now. Whatever happens to Seafarer Designs, I''m in it with you."
Wendy couldn''t hold back. "Boss worked so hard to get the Horizon Architects project, but the big firms went straight to the finals. Seafarer Designs is in such bad shape, we don''t even qualify topete with Capitolion''s smallest studios."
Rowena''s shoulders sagged further at that.
Wendy stuck out her tongue, scrambling to fix it,
"Boss, don''t worry! Isadora will figure something out!"
In the next second, both women looked at Isadora with hopeful eyes.
Isadora felt a headacheing on.
You really know how to put me on the spot.
That evening, as she drove home, Isadora found herself instinctively heading toward Brocade Heights.
Her phone buzzed suddenly from the passenger seat a text lighting up the
screen:
"Summit Crest Estates. Waiting for you."