Isadora was seated right next to Nte.


    She watched as Finley, moving with deliberate slowness, began to undo the buttons of his patterned shirt, working his way from the top down. Each button revealed a little more of his chiseled torso, the muscles beneath shifting in the low


    light.


    Then, with both hands, he gripped the sides of his shirt, about to pull it open in one dramatic motion.


    Every woman in the room stared, utterly transfixed by the slow-motion disy- some even found themselves absentmindedly biting their lips or swallowing hard. Suddenly, a jacket flew in from across the room,nding squarely on Isadora''s head and blocking her viewpletely.


    Isadora: ...


    Victor strode in, tall and imposing, each step exuding a kind of effortless authority.


    His voice, low and edged with irritation, cut through the stunned silence. "Should I call up a film producer for you? Or do you all n on giving a full show tonight?"


    Finley, noticing Victor''s arrival, shrugged and let his hands drop, abandoning his striptease.


    Even the boldest partygoers knew better than to cross the heir to the Fitzgerald dynasty. At the sound of Victor''s icy voice, Finley grabbed his shirt and quickly slipped it back on.


    A few people in the room recognized Victor at once, gasping in surprise and whispering urgently among themselves.


    "That''s Mr. Fitzgerald!"


    "I think his familypany invested in yourst film."


    "If only he''d look at me just once, I could die happy."


    Victor swept his gaze coolly around the VIP lounge, then fixed Finley with a pointed look. "This is how you look after my people? Putting on a strip show for them?"


    Finley looked genuinely put out. He''d been aiming to show off for Nte, not Isadora-how had he ended up in trouble for this?


    Meanwhile, Isadora, still a bit dazed from having had a jacket thrown over her head, tugged it off and red at the striking man now standing in front of her.


    She frowned. "Did you really have to cover my head with your jacket?"


    Victor''s mouth twitched in a self-assured smirk. "Just protecting your eyes from the garbage in here."


    Without another word, he slipped an arm around Isadora''s waist, pulling her firmly against him.


    Every influencer and actress in the room watched in open-mouthed envy as Victor, the untouchable Mr. Fitzgerald, swept Isadora into his arms and strode out of the club without a backward nce.


    It wasn''t until they were outside The Ace''s Den that Isadora finally regained herposure, stopped in her tracks, and pushed him away.


    “I wasn''t finished celebrating Nte''s birthday. Why did you drag me out here?"


    Victor, towering over her, looked down with stormy eyes. "I''m here to take you home. You shouldn''t be in a ce like this, not when you''re pregnant."


    A pregnant woman, at a club, watching a man strip? He was supposed to just let that slide?


    "Ridiculous," she muttered. She could take care of herself. Why did he think it was any of his business?


    Victor, seeing the stubborn set of her jaw, couldn''t hide the jealousy in his tone. "What, you still want to go back inside and watch some guy take his shirt off?"


    Isadora shot him an annoyed re. "Isn''t Finley your friend? That doesn''t really count as ''some guy,'' does it?"


    Victor''s frown deepened. Something about that answer bothered him.


    "Even if it''s him, that''s a no. If you''re going to look at anyone, it should be me."


    A wicked thought seemed to ur to him; he leaned down, his lips brushing her ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.


    "If I remember correctly, it''s been a while for us. Maybe that''s why you''re feeling a little restless. That''s on me. But the doctor said-it''s safe for us to get back to it after three months."