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Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 45
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Chapter 46 The moment he stepped into the back garden, Victor froze in his tracks. Across the lawn, he immediately spotted that familiar, graceful silhouette.

So that's why Pudding had been acting out of sorts, he realized.

And the woman responsible? None other than Isadora.

She wore a fitted, gray one-shoulder business dress-professional but flattering, hugging every elegant curve. The hem brushed just above her knees, showing off a pair of perfectly sculpted, porcelain legs.

Isadora had her back to him, so Victor couldn't see her face. But her light, ringing laughter, mingled with Pudding's excited barking, filled the entire garden.

"Ready? One, two, three-go fetch, Pudding!" she called.

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She was teasing Pudding with a dog toy, tossing it across the lawn. No matter how far she threw it, Pudding dashed after it and brought it right back, tail wagging, eyes shining with joy.

They repeated this three or four times, each tending with Isadora offering him a handful of treats. Pudding gobbled them up, jaws working noisily.

Victor arched an eyebrow. Lately, this spoiled mutt had barely touched his food. Not just kibble—even the finest cuts of meat couldn't tempt him unless he was starving or Victor lost his temper.

Victor had been about to call Dr. Finley, their top-tier vet, to see if something was wrong. The idea of the esteemed Dr. Finley being summoned for a dog's eating habits was almost laughable.

Yet here was Pudding, eating with gusto at Isadora's feet.

Victor couldn't help but smirk. So that's all it took-just seeing your beloved "mom" again, and suddenly you're over the moon.

Well, it made sense. Nearly thirteen years had gone by.

Meanwhile, Isadora was completely absorbed in playing with Pudding, the two of them lost in their own world. At first, she'd only planned to use Pudding as an excuse to get into the house and find Victor. But somewhere along the way, she'd gotten swept up in the moment.

She really did like this Samoyed. All that fluffy white fur, those bright, intelligent black eyes that seemed to look straight into your soul. He was adorable and clever, despite his size. And for such a sturdy dog, he was a total softie-always nudging her for attention, licking her hand whenever she stopped petting him.

If she scratched behind his ears, he'd wag his tail in pure contentment.

It seemed like the feeling was mutual. Sometimes she wondered if she'd raised him herself, the bond felt so natural. Samoyeds were known for being fiercely loyal to their owners, after all.

Crouching down, Isadora fed Pudding the last of the treats and gently stroked his head.

"Why are you called Pudding, huh? You don't look like a pudding at all. Did Victor give you that name?" she asked, her voice teasing.

Woof! Woof! All at once, Pudding caught a familiar scent and bounded past her, heading straight across the yard.

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Isadora turned to see what had caught his attention-and unexpectedly found herself staring into the deep, dark eyes of a man standing not far away.

Those eyes were black as night but glimmered with flecks of light, sharp as obsidian.

He stood with one hand in his pocket, tall and lean, the top buttons of his shirt undone to reveal @pafe, angular collarbone. There was an air of restraint about him that only made him more magnetic. As Pudding barreled toward him, Victor bent down and effortlessly scooped the dog up with one arm.

Isadora's gaze lingered on him for a few seconds before she hurriedly looked away, flustered. She had to admit, the man was almost dangerously attractive.

She'd thought that, after a few weeks apart, the memory of that wild night would have have now, every faded. But seeing him heated moment crushing back, making her cheeks burn.

Victor cradled the fluffy Pudding with practiced ease, striding toward her, his presence overwhelming as he N stopped just close enough for his shadow to fall over her slender frame. He looked down at her, voice low and calm. "Looking for me?"