Rowena drew a long, shaky breath, her eyes locked on Isadora.


    After a tense silence, she bit her lip and spoke through gritted teeth. "Abbott has somepromising photos of me. He said if our firmnds the Horizon Architects project, he''ll leak them to the press."


    Wendy caught up behind them just in time to hear this. Her face darkened as she rolled up her sleeves.


    "That scumbag did what? Rowena, I swear, I''ll go knock his teeth out!"


    Isadora frowned. "Wendy, if you storm over there now, those photos could be stered all over Capitolion by tomorrow-or even in the next minute."


    *


    Parking garage.


    Isadora scanned the lot and spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man not far away, reaching for his car door.


    She hurried over at first walking, then picking up speed, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete as she broke into a run.


    "Victor!" she called out.


    Victor paused at the familiar voice, turning to see Isadora running toward him, her hair streaming behind her and her fair cheeks flushed with urgency-alive and radiant.


    He''d never seen her like this before, rushing to him, breathless and determined. Something strange and unfamiliar flickered in his chest.


    Afraid he might leave, Isadora ran faster. As she reached him, Victor opened his arms and caught her effortlessly, a grin tugging at his lips.


    "What''s the hurry? I''m not going anywhere."


    Still catching her breath, Isadora managed, "I... I need your help with something."


    Victor arched an eyebrow, his tone yfully casual. "Let me guess-what could possibly make you this desperate? You must be here to ask me for a favor."


    The flush on Isadora''s cheeks deepened, whether from having been caught out or simply from her dash across the lot.


    Victor''s lips quirked in a half-smile, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Looks like I was right."


    "You know, Isadora, my favors aren''t cheap."


    Isadora''s clear eyes shone with a quiet intensity. She hesitated, then gently hooked her slender fingers through his, her voice soft. "Name your price."


    Victor''s gaze drifted down to the small hand in his palm, something warm and restless stirring in him.


    She''s getting clever, he thought. She knows how to ask now.


    "Get in the car first," he said with azy tilt of his head.


    Isadora slid into the passenger seat beside him without protest.


    Inside the ck, limited-edition luxury coupe, Victor steered with one hand while the other idly toyed with Isadora''s fingers as he started the engine.


    As the car shot onto the main road, Isadora turned to study Victor. Eyes fixed on the street ahead, his profile was all sharp lines and cool confidence—the chiseled jaw, the proud nose, the pressed line of his lips. Even waiting at a red light, he looked perfectly at ease, those elegant hands drumming lightly on the steering wheel.


    Isadora''s gaze lingered, a subtle spark in her eyes. This man, she realized, really was the embodiment of her every ideal.


    Finally, she spoke up. "Victor, could you help me look into someone? Abbott."


    He nced at her, azy amusement in his tone. "And why would you want me to do that? nning to get even?"


    She shook her head. "It''s not about me. My friend Rowena-he''s ckmailing her."


    At that, Victor''s expression turned nonchnt, his interest only mildly piqued. "Oh?"


    Isadora watched him, trying to read his reaction.


    "Rowena''s a close friend. I want to help her."


    Victor gave a low, dismissive chuckle. "Close enough that you''d risk every penny you have investing in a design firm on the verge of bankruptcy?"