Chapter 1109

No.1

Heat flooded her cheeks with instant mortification. This made no logical sense. Her sleeping habits were notoriously still; she never tossed or turned recklessly. How could this occur?

Nathaniel sat up gracefully, adjusting his clothes with deliberate elegance. A smirk played on his lips. "Last time was understandable since you were poisoned. This occasion requires an explanation, Ms. Montgomery."

Last time...

Dread pooled in her stomach as memories resurfaced—that night Lawrence Chamberlain drugged her. Hazy fragments flashed through her mind: lunging at Nathaniel, grinding against him, climbing atop him...

Humiliation burned through her veins. She shook off the vivid recollections sharply. "Why is a grown man complaining? You weren't the one violated here. Stop being shameless!" She slid off the mattress, ready to escape.

Nathaniel's gaze intensified, locking onto her. "That was my first embrace. I've always remained pure. Shouldn't you take responsibility?"

"Don't lie! How could you never have held a woman? Don't fabricate accusations!" She rolled her eyes while slipping on her shoes.

He caught her wrist, expression turning deadly serious. "Isabella, I never lie."

His unwavering stare made her heartbeat stutter uncontrollably.

No.2

Was that true? Had he really never lied? Was Nathaniel Blackwood genuinely untouched?

His lips curved into a faint smile. "Marry me. You won't regret it." His voice dropped to a low, determined timbre.

Disbelief swamped her. Their modern society overflowed with promiscuous men, especially wealthy ones who treated women as toys. Yet here he was, completely chaste...!

Obviously no woman would regret marrying him—he was literally one in a million. But...

Her eyes dimmed slightly as she pulled her hand free. "I don't like men who are too pure. It's childish." She fabricated an excuse and bolted from the room.

Nathaniel frowned. Childish?

Did she just call him childish? Or was she insulting his purity? Perhaps it was time to teach her a proper lesson.

Isabella fled into another room like escaping catastrophe. She splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom, Nathaniel's words echoing in her mind. She never imagined he was untouched, but this revelation made everything more complicated. She needed to clarify last night's conversation soon.

"Mommy, you're awake?" Oliver's timid voice interrupted. "Look at my painting."

No.3

She turned to see him approaching with a canvas.

The artwork depicted three figures sleeping on a bed—a man and woman cradling a small boy between them. Rendered in oils, the subjects were unmistakably themselves.

Isabella stared in shock. "Momo, you painted this?"

"Yes! Do you like it, Mommy?" Hope sparkled in his eyes.

"Of course! You're so young yet created something this impressive! You're more talented than me!" She praised warmly, ruffling his hair.

Oliver jumped joyfully. "I'm glad you like it! I got inspired early this morning. I'll ask someone to hang it beside our bed!"

Her smile faltered slightly. He wanted to display it near the bed? What if his grandparents or relatives visited? They would undoubtedly see it.

The portrait was unmistakably her.

Isabella started to speak. “Christopher, what if we don’t—”

No.4

Before she could finish, Oliver chirped, “I’ll handle it right now, Mommy! See you soon!” He dashed off on his little legs.

Isabella sighed. That boy…

It didn’t matter. No one had visited her at the estate since she moved in. Oliver mentioned his grandparents didn’t like him. They probably wouldn’t come.

She refocused. Preparations for the Celestial Gala tonight demanded attention. Though it was ten hours away, her gown required a perfect hairstyle. Matching accessories and shoes were essential. She wanted to honor Mr. Ashford’s effort.

After breakfast, Evelyn approached her with a box. “Ms. Montgomery, Mr. Blackwood assigned me to style you today.”

Isabella had avoided Nathaniel since the morning incident. His thoughtfulness surprised her.

Evelyn was Nathaniel’s top assistant. She specialized in serving elite clients, including styling. Her work was impeccable.

Isabella sat before the mirror. “Thank you.”

Evelyn began styling her hair.

No.5

Soon, Isabella’s phone lit up on the desk. The caller ID showed ‘Mom.’

It was Eleanor. She was calling.

Though Eleanor never acted like a mother, and Isabella didn’t see her as one, she kept the contact name to maintain her cover.

Isabella answered flatly. “Yes?”

“Isabella, where are you staying? I went to Rosewood Manor and you weren’t there.” Eleanor’s tone was unusually gentle.

After talking with her husband Richard, Eleanor had searched for Isabella. She couldn’t find her.

Isabella’s eyes flickered. She gave a vague excuse. “Another property. Contact me if you need me.”

“Nothing urgent. I wanted to ask if you’d like to live with us? You’re a Montgomery. Living alone isn’t proper,” Eleanor said.

Isabella didn’t expect an invitation. She remembered how Eleanor and Richard had bodyguards escort her away on her first day back. Contempt flashed in her eyes. “I apologize, but I don’t plan to return. As my mother, you know how everyone despises an adopted daughter. To avoid conflict, I prefer living alone.”

No.6

Eleanor sighed. Even if she and Richard accepted Isabella, others might not. After a pause, she continued. “Isabella, can I ask a favor? The Montgomerys have connections with the Celestial Gala organizers. You’ll win awards tonight. Could you say something kind about your sister during interviews? Please don’t criticize her further…”

Isabella’s eyes dulled. So this was the real reason for the call. Victoria committed terrible acts, yet Eleanor still defended her?

Connections? Isabella could win awards without Montgomery connections.

Sensing her displeasure, Eleanor sighed. “I know Victoria made bad choices. She’s unforgivable. As punishment, I transferred her five-percent shares to your father. She’s also badly injured and still in a coma. She’s suffered enough… I hope you can forgive her a little.”

Isabella frowned. They actually took five percent of her shares? Victoria would be furious! With only five percent left, she had little influence in the family. What could she do now?

Isabella’s lips curved slightly. “I’ll say a few words to the media. Under one condition.”

“What condition?” Eleanor asked immediately.

Isabella remained silent for a long moment before finally responding. “When she wakes up, she must go live and apologize. In front of all her followers and the press. She has to confess everything she did and apologize to me directly.”

Victoria had been hiding in that hospital room, pretending to be sick, lying in that bed. She thought she could just avoid the whole mess. Did she really believe that after everything, she could just stay quiet and wait for people to forget? Not a chance.

No.7

Eleanor hesitated. Victoria wasn't in a good place mentally. What if seeing all the hate online made her faint again, just as she was starting to recover? She was so fragile. How could she possibly face a public apology, knowing she'd be torn apart? And sleeping with your sister's fiancé… that was a deeply shameful act. No one would want to admit to that.

“Is there… no other way?” Eleanor couldn't help but ask. “This condition seems rather…”

“Mother, are you still protecting her?” Isabella's voice was cold. “When has she ever apologized for anything? How can I help her if she won't even admit she was wrong? Would you hesitate like this if it were me? If I had seduced her husband and tried to steal everything from her?”

Eleanor felt a sharp pang of guilt. If it were Isabella, she wouldn't hesitate at all. Isabella was just the adopted daughter. When she made that mistake five years ago, the whole family cast her out immediately. Eleanor was having second thoughts. Isabella did grow up with them, even if she wasn't blood…

“I know I was adopted,” Isabella continued, her voice steady. “That's why I've never asked for anything. But she ruined my wedding. She tried to steal what was mine. I'm not a saint. All I want is an apology. Besides, she'll only learn from this if she admits her mistakes. Don't you agree?”

Eleanor finally relented. “Alright. I'll talk to her. I'll make her apologize. Please… say a few good words for her when you can.”

A cold smirk touched Isabella's lips as she ended the call. She knew Victoria better than anyone. Victoria could fake tears and play the victim beautifully, but it was always for sympathy. Asking her to actually admit her fault? To take responsibility? That would shatter her entire carefully constructed image. It would be pure agony for her.

They deserved every bit of this.