Isadora heard his voice, and for reasons she couldn''t quite exin, a sharp ache rose in her chest.


    She sniffed quietly, determined not to let him notice.


    "I just saw the news. How''s yourpany holding up?"


    Victor leaned back in his seat, rubbing his brow. He''d been in meetings all day, but the moment he saw her call, he called her right back.


    "It''s fine," he replied calmly. "I just need to take ast-minute business trip to Europe."


    The factory fire in Europe wasn''t an ident-Farrar Fitzgerald had learned about his grandfather''s illness and deliberately caused trouble. It was a tricky situation and would take some time to resolve.


    Isadora hugged her knees, her voice small. "Is it serious?"


    I''m sorry. I wish I could help, but there''s nothing I can do.


    Victor let out a quietugh. "Is that concern I hear? Come on, say a little more."


    But Isadora wasn''t in the mood for jokes. She spoke each word slowly, sincerely. "I hope you''re able to sort this out soon."


    Victor''s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of emotion crossing his face. Isadora rarely called him first.


    "You haven''t told me why''d you reach out today, all of a sudden?"


    Isadora didn''t want to trouble him further, not now. "No reason. Just wanted to know if you''d be home tonight."


    "Clingy, aren''t you?"


    Despite his weariness, a faint smile touched Victor''s lips. "I''m flying back tonight. Wait for me, okay?"


    *


    But Isadora never got to see Victor that evening. Instead, Mrs. Fitzgerald came for her.


    Fitzgerald Manor.


    It had been a while since Isadorast stepped inside. The ce hadn''t changed—


    it was as imposing, solemn, and ancient as ever. Just walking through the grand entrance filled her with quiet dread and made her instinctively straighten her posture.


    In the sitting room, Mrs. Fitzgerald-Deanna—sat at the head of an ornate European sofa, sipping tea. Isadora was led in by the butler and took a seat across from her.


    Deanna''s lined face was unreadable, her sharp eyes sweeping over Isadora with an air of authority. Her voice was low and cool. "Miss Vaughan. It''s been a while."


    Isadora''sshes fluttered. She hadn''te here by choice; she''d been escorted by bodyguards as soon as she left her apartment.


    "The Fitzgerald Group''s current troubles-has Victor told you? This crisis was engineered by his uncle. It''s not exactly small, but it''s certainly not the end of the world. Still, it''s only the beginning."


    Deanna set her teacup down and looked Isadora straight in the eye. "So I called you here today to ask: when Victor faces hardship, what can you possibly offer to help him? What do you bring to the table for the Fitzgerald family?"


    She didn''t wait for an answer, her tone turning colder. "LS Capital Holdings in Europe is a different story. They''re a match for us-equal in every way."


    Isadora''s expression tightened at the implication.


    Deanna looked her up and down with thinly veiled disdain, her next words sharp as a knife. "You and your mother can barely keep your own family afloat. You''re not just powerless to help-you''re a liability, dragging him down. And you know it." Isadora knew every word was true. Her own life was a mess. And for the first time, she realized just how much of a burden she was to Victor.


    She clenched her fists, meeting Deanna''s gaze. Her voice was steady. "The thirty percent stake in the Vaughan Group you once offered me―does that still stand? I want it now."


    Deanna arched a brow, her tone measured. "Changed your mind, have you?"


    The offer of thirty percent in the Vaughan Group had always been on the table for Isadora. But it would only be official once the paperwork was done and signed in front of awyer.