MainNovelChapter 5 Victor shot him a cold, dismissive glance.
He strode into the living room, grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the bar, and poured himself a full glass. Lifting it to his lips, he downed it in one go. The burn of the liquor finally cut through the syrupy afterglow of the night, jolting him awake.
Finley let out a teasing click of his tongue.
"Well, look at you. Guess a satisfied man doesn't need the little help I brought, huh? Tell me, who's the woman who finally managed to pluck our untouchable prince off his pedestal?" Finley was dying of curiosity.
After all, Victor had a reputation in the business world for being ice-cold, ruthless, and sharp as a blade. Behind closed doors, though, he was nothing like the rest of their crowd.
For Finley and his friends, blowing off steam meant sipping drinks, flirting with actresses and models, maybe splurging on a wild night if the mood struck. Victor joined in occasionally, but he always craved something with a little more edge- racing, surfing, skydiving, boxing. Women, to him, were just a hassle he didn't need.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtFinley was about to give up hope of getting an answer when Victor set his empty glass on the counter. With a flick of his finger, he spun the tumbler, sending it whirling and scattering prisms of light across the marble surface.
His eyes were dark, unreadable. Casually, he said, "Isadora." Finley froze, caught off guard.
Of all people-her? Isadora's nhad been making the rounds in high society lately. Not so much because of the Vaughan family's pedigree, but because she happened to be Magnus's fiancée.
Magnus was Victor's archrival in business-both of them heirs to top-tier fortunes, but they ran in completely different circles. Recently, Magnus had been making headlines for throwing a lavish wedding, all in pursuit of his longtcrush, Elise. The whole city was gossiping about it, and poor Isadora-the official fiancée-had becthe punchline of every joke.
Even Finley had heard the rumors.
He couldn't help but ask, "Wait, are you messing with Magnus on purpose? If you wanted to get even with him, I'd have thought Elise would be your type. Isadora's been out of favor for ages." Victor's glare was sharp enough to cut through steel. Finley suddenly felt a cold sweat run down the back of his neck.
Victor scoffed. "Magnus? You really think I'd waste my ton him?" Finley gave a sheepish laugh. "Of course not, you've got better things to do. It's just...well, Isadora is his fiancée, and you and Isadora...that's a bit..." You're not actually going to be the other man, are you? He didn't dare say that part aloud.
Victor narrowed his eyes. "You sure know how to run your mouth.” Finley swallowed hard. Did Victor actually want to cut his tongue out? "If you don't get lost right now, you might not have a tongue left to wag." Alright, alright-message received, point taken.
Finley didn't just walk out-he practically flew. Moments later, a private jet soared upward into the night. Isadora had been put through the wringer for hours; now, the effects of the drug had worn off, leaving her aching and sore, as if every bone had been taken apart and put back together all wrong.
Suddenly, the deafening roar of a helicopter overhead shook her awake.
She blinked groggily, slowly pushing herself upright. The silk sheets slipped down, exposing pale skin covered in vivid marks-evidence of what had happened just hours earlier.
The memories crushing back. She'd slept with Victor. Worse-she'd been the one to make the first move.
A flush crept up Isadora's cheeks. For a moment, she had no idea how she was supposed to face the aftermath.
Just then, the bedroom door creaked open.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmOut of reflex, Isadora flopped onto her back, yanking the covers up to her chin and clutching them tightly in her fists.
Footsteps approached-the sound deep and deliberate.
She held her breath, eyelashes trembling, toes curled tight beneath the sheets Even with her eyes squeezed shut, she could feel the heat of his gaze raking over her. Just as the tension becunbearable, his low, lazy drawl filled the room.
"We've already slept together, Miss Vaughan. Are you really going to pretend nothing happened?" Isadora peeked out from beneath the covers, cautiously opening her bright, beautiful eyes.
Victor stood at the edge of the bed, tall and lean, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were dark as were midnight, coolly appraising her. This was the first tIsadora had seen him up close when she was actually sober.
He wore a patterned dress shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse
of his sculpted collarbone-a picture of careless, almost monastico m restraint that somehow made him all the more irresistible.
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