EuropeNovelChapter 165 The executives of M Boutique and the city's social elite surged forward to greet him.
"President Fitzgerald, your assistant told us you wouldn't be able to make it today. We're truly honored you could join us for the ribbon-cutting. Your presence elevates the entire event!" Victor's strikingly handsface betrayed both distance and nobility. Even as praises poured in from every direction, he barely managed a polite nod, not bothering to force a smile.
His sharp, dark eyes swept coolly over the crowd and landed on a woman standing at a distance. Noticing the man beside her, Victor's gaze grew even colder before he looked away, his indifference palpable.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAcross the room, Capitolion's top entertainment reporters jostled for the best angle, camera shutters clicking as they fought for exclusive shots of the elusive mogul.
Nanette watched the man towering above the crowd, adored by everyone. She wanted to say something to Isadora, but Isadora spoke first.
"Nanette, I'm going to grab something to eat." She made her way to the buffet, picking up a plate and eyeing the pastries, intent on silencing her hunger with a few slices of cake.
At spoint, Magnus appeared beside her, shadowing her movements as if he'd been waiting all along. He offered her a piece of blueberry cake. "Your favorite." Isadora glanced at him but ignored the gesture, instead reaching for a cream-filled cookie. She never expected Magnus to be this persistent.
Lately, he'd sent her more messages than he had in their entire five years together. Each time, it was from a different number; she'd block one, and another would pop up. But Mr. Wainwright was nothing if not resourceful- clearly, he could afford to buy as many numbers as he wanted. Eventually, Isadora grew tired of blocking him and considered changing her own number, but she knew it would be pointless. If he was determined, he'd find her anyway.
"Magnus, stop following me. This isn't like you at all." A flicker of pain crossed his eyes. His voice was rough, almost pleading. "Isadora, is there really no chance for us?" "None." Her answer was cold and final.
She turned away, eating a few bites just to keep busy, refusing to acknowledge him any further.
Magnus lowered his gaze, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the plate with the blueberry cake. For once, when he tried to change and make things right, she'd grown utterly unyielding-her heart was stone, her mind made up. It was as if he no longer existed in her world.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmNever in his life had Magnus swallowed his pride for anyone, much less begged a woman to stay. Sometimes he asked himself: Why did it have to be Isadora? If five years was just habit, couldn't he find someone else and let that habit form anew? But the thought of another woman-someone who wasn't her-made his skin crawl. That's when he finally admitted it wasn't habit at all. It was love. And even with another man at her side, he couldn't let go.
Just then, elegant waltz music floated through the air. Couples in beautiful evening attire took to the floor, spinning gracefully under the chandeliers.
Mary, the glamorous heiress of M Boutique, wore a plunging black silk gown. Her golden hair tumbled over her shoulders/making her look every bit the Barbie princess. With a crystal wine glass delicately balanced between fingers tipped in striking red, she drew every eye in the room.
Mary had always been confident; in Northmarch, no man had ever resisted her charms Tossing her hair el with practiced ease, she gave Victor-standing nearby, exuding aristocratic arrogance-a sultry glance. "Fitzgerald, would you honorwith this dance?" Victor's flawless features remained impassive. He took a sip of his cocktail and replied coolly, "I'm allergic to dancing." Mary blinked, momentarily stunned by the ridiculous excuse-she'd never heard that one before.
A playful spark glimmered in her eyes, her crimson lips curving into a smile. At first, she'd only been drawn to Victor's Wealth and good looks. Now, his icy demeanor lit a fire in her-a challenge she simply couldn't resist. "Maybe I'm just not charming enough for you, then," she teased, leaning in slightly. The daring cut of her dress left little to the imagination, her confidence radiating with every subtle movement.
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