NovelUSAChapter 202 "At least this much," Rowena declared, tically holding up eight fingers.
"Isadora, do you even need to start a business? You could sell this and open your very own luxury design sturight away." Even Isadora couldn't hide her surprise at that number.
She'd always known Victor Fitzgerald wasn't one to go cheap, but this... this was beyond anything she could have imagined. Suddenly, the bracelet on her wrist felt impossibly heavy.
"I read about this in a magazine," Rowena went on, her excitement growing. "This has to be a limited edition from the Northmarch Michelle collection. Every single piece from that brand is a one-of-a-kind treasure. But the real question is-do you know what sapphires symbolize?" Isadora shook her head.
Rowena's eyes sparkled. "In ancient Greece, they stood for loyalty, deep affection, and devotion." Hearing that, Isadora's lashes fluttered ever so slightly.
But almost immediately, she brushed that thought aside. She remembered how casually Victor had treated the bracelet yesterday-he'd practically tossed it aside when she hesitated to accept it.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHe probably had no idea what sapphires were supposed to mean. He must have just bought it on a whim, nothing more.
* After lunch with Rowena, Isadora returned to Brocade Heights, her emotions tangled and unsettled.
She unlocked the door to find Victor lounging on the sofa in a gray dress shirt, looking utterly relaxed. One arm was tucked behind his head, the other draped across his forehead, his legs-clad in perfectly pressed black slacks—carelessly crossed at the edge of the couch.
At the sound of the door, Victor slowly raised his hand and lazily opened his eyes. They were as dark as polished obsidian, fringed with long lashes, and when he looked at her-still heavy with sleep-there was an intensity in his gaze that sent a shiver down her spine.
Standing in the doorway, Isadora was caught off guard, lost in the depths of his eyes.
For a moment, the air between them seemed to hold its breath. Neither of them spoke; they simply stared at each other in silence.
The bedroom light was off. Only the faint glow of moonlight spilled in from the balcony, tracing silver patterns on the floor.
Isadora couldn't quite make out his features in the dim light, but his burning gaze held her captive, rooting her to the spot.
The only sounds in the apartment were their quiet, mingled breaths and the steady tick of the clock on the wall. After a while, Victor sat up, unhurried, and leaned back against the sofa, his arms resting lazily along the back. Isadora snapped out of her trance.
Click.
She switched on the lights.
Victor arched a brow. "Piggy Vaughan, huh? Quite the celebrity now-don't answer your phone, disappear without a trace." Isadora bent down to slip off her heels and reach for her flats, her delicate waist flashing for a moment beneath her blouse.
"I never actually promised I'd stay here," she said, voice calm.
Victor's gaze tracked her movements, his eyes darkening further. His voice dropped, husky and low. "So, was I just fooling myself?" Isadora shrugged it off. "I just... don't sleep well in unfamiliar places, that's all."
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThe apartment wasn't especially large, but even sitting in the living room, Victor's presence seemed to fill the space-his height, his quiet dominance, the air of someone used to having his way.
As she finished changing her shoes, Isadora hesitated. Should she walk past him and go straight to her room, or just ignore him altogether? She decided to walk right by without a word.
As she did, Victor suddenly reached out and caught her fingers.
His touch was warm-almost hot-against her cool skin, sending a jolt up her arm and straight to her chest. Isadora instinctively pulled away.
"Victor." But Mr. Fitzgerald tightened his grip and drew her in front of him.
He sat there, legs spread carelessly, and she found herself standing right between them.
Victor looked up at her, his dark eyes unreadable. "Isadora, you're not happy."
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