Isadora could hear the mockery in Victor''s tone.


    She bit her lower lip, her voice quiet as she spoke. "When I first met Rowena, I hadn''t even been reunited with the Vaughan family yet. Back then, I loved painting, and it was Rowena who asked her mentor to include me in lessons."


    "I had to work part-time jobs to get by, and Rowena was always worried I''d fall behind. She''d find all sorts of excuses to buy my hours so I wouldn''t have to work as much."


    "A lot of our ssmates would whisper behind my back, saying I was only trying to get close to her. But Rowena always stood up for me, always defended me from their gossip."


    As Isadora spoke, wave after wave of old memories came rushing back.


    Rowena really had helped her so much back then.


    She was one of the few people who''d ever shown her real warmth.


    Isadora had always been someone to see the world in ck and white.


    If someone was kind to her, she''d repay them threefold.


    But if someone crossed her, she wouldn''t just sit back and take it.


    She nced at Victor, who was still focused on the road.


    Dappled sunlight flickered through the trees outside, painting shifting shadows across his sharp features. With his long, darkshes, it was impossible to read his expression as he stared straight ahead.


    Sitting in the passenger seat, Isadora turned her gaze forward, her voice faint as she said, "You''ve always had everything-born with a silver spoon, never had to worry where your next meal woulde from. Of course you can''t understand feelings like these."


    Victor flicked his eyes toward her, catching the frustration on her face.


    With a smirk, he reached over and pinched her cheek, teasing, "Did I say I wouldn''t help you? Is that why you''re pouting?"


    "You didn''t say you *would* help, either," she shot back. "And from the way you were talking, it sounded like you thought my investment was a waste."


    Victor''s gaze returned to the road, his expression unreadable. He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. "To be honest, it *is* a waste. Why pour money into a failing design studio when you could just start your own?”


    He paused, his tone shifting. "But Isadora, investing isn''t just about the project, it''s about the person. If you know why you''re doing this, and you''re ready to live with the consequences-then it''s worth it."


    Something shifted in Isadora''s chest.


    She realized he''d been analyzing the situation for her, purely from a business perspective.


    Then Victor''szy drawl filled the car,ced with a hint of mischief. "So if you want my help, you''ll have to pay a higher interest rate."


    Isadora''sshes fluttered.


    A higher interest rate?


    With the Fitzgerald Group''s wealth, there wasn''t a single person in Capitolion richer than Victor. And she didn''t have much cash to offer him.


    All she really had was herself.


    She lowered her head, lips pressed together, and after a moment, whispered, "Tonight... I''ll help you."


    Victor, still driving, turned his head, his deep, ice-blue eyes giving her a long, meaningful look. His voice was thick with amusement. "Help me with what, exactly?"


    Isadora''s cheeks flushed crimson, the color blooming across her skin like a peony. Flustered and a little angry, she snapped, "You know exactly what I mean-don''t y dumb!"


    Laughter danced in Victor''s eyes, his smile soft and teasing. "Why are you blushing, Isadora, hmm?"


    She''d already worked up all her courage, and now, being teased, she felt even more embarrassed. Huffing, she muttered, "Forget it."


    "I''ll think of something else."


    The ck limited-edition Rolls-Royce tore down the street, then, with a sudden, showy turn, pulled onto a quiet side road.


    Victor hit the brakes and stopped at an empty, secluded corner.


    In the next instant, he reached over and pulled her from the passenger seat, drawing her onto hisp.


    Isadora gasped as he parted her legs, settling her across him.