Chapter 1268
No.1
The public forgot Alexander’s promised live-stream. The scandal was all-consuming.
Isabella’s new fans, fickle from a single show, abandoned her instantly.
Isabella was at home, a silk mask smoothing her skin, when her phone began buzzing incessantly.
It wouldn’t stop.
She reached for it, answering to the sound of Maxwell Carter’s frantic, panicked breathing.
“Boss, we have a situation!” Maxwell’s voice crackled through the phone. “Photos of you and Harrison Winslow are all over the internet. The forums are exploding.”
He took a sharp breath. “And Sophia Kensington just leaked your address. Paparazzi are swarming your location right now.”
Isabella Montgomery remained perfectly still. A handheld device hummed softly against her skin, casting a cool blue glow across her features.
“Should I arrange a safe house?” Maxwell pressed, urgency tightening his tone. “They’ll have you surrounded within minutes.”
No.2
“Since when do I hide?” Her reply was ice-cold and detached. She didn’t flinch.
“What’s the plan then? Should I release a counter-statement? Start damage control?”
“Not yet. It’s too early.” Her voice was firm. Final. She ended the call.
A low rumble echoed from outside. Isabella moved to the window.
Dozens of vehicles screeched to a halt outside Rosewood Manor. Reporters and photographers surged forward like a tidal wave. Her security team formed a barricade, but the crowd pushed harder, shouting, shoving, relentless.
Within moments, the villa was completely surrounded. The noise escalated into a chaotic roar.
“Isabella Montgomery! Did you have an affair with Harrison Winslow?”
“Are you the reason he’s separating from Princess Arabella?”
“Give us a statement! How long has this been going on?”
No.3
The questions were vicious, pointed, designed to provoke. Isabella’s recent success at the Chanel show had put her on the map, but this—this scandal with a prince—catapulted her into a different kind of spotlight. The kind that burns.
She didn’t react. Her expression was unreadable. Calm.
They began pounding on the doors and windows, their faces pressed against the glass. The vibrations rattled through the quiet house.
A slow, knowing smile touched Isabella’s lips. She turned and walked upstairs.
The second floor housed a secure control room. Banks of monitors glowed softly in the dim light. She approached the main panel without hesitation.
Her fingers pressed a sequence of bright red buttons.
A deep, mechanical groan shook the entire property. From concealed slots around the estate’s perimeter, massive electric fences slammed down. They formed a perfect, impenetrable cage around the villa, buzzing with raw voltage.
The crowd outside recoiled in unison. Shouts of alarm turned into screams of pure terror. Cameras dropped. They scrambled backward, tripping over each other.
Even Maxwell and his team, hidden in the shadows, stared in stunned silence.
No.4
“She installed a military-grade defense system,” one of his men whispered, awe in his voice. “That tech isn’t even legal for residential use.”
Maxwell’s face was grim. “This is just the first layer. Let’s hope we never see the others.”
Their worry for her evaporated. She was always ten steps ahead.
Isabella emerged on the second-floor balcony. A glass of wine was in her hand. She looked down at the chaotic scene below with utter indifference. She took a slow sip.
Then, a sudden thought struck her. Her eyes scanned the secured compound below.
A cold dread settled in her stomach.
She had forgotten something critical. Something important.
Though she had renovated Rosewood Manor after returning from Africa, Isabella still lacked some daily essentials. Her staff delivered fresh ingredients every morning, but she never kept snacks in the house. Right now, there was absolutely nothing edible available. To make matters worse, her stomach had started cramping painfully. She checked her own pulse and realized her period would arrive in five days—and she had no sanitary pads at the manor!
Meanwhile, at the Blackwood Estate…
No.5
Oliver came running toward Nathaniel, clutching a phone tightly. “Daddy, there’s trouble! Mommy looks like she’s trapped inside her house!” he cried, his small voice trembling with worry. “She’s walking around everywhere, like she’s searching for something!” He handed the phone over to his father.
The device was linked to a high-tech drone no bigger than a leaf. Equipped with a four-million-pixel pinhole camera, it could capture crystal-clear images through glass from hundreds of meters away.
“Are we going to see Mommy, Daddy?” Oliver asked, eyes bright with excitement.
“Yes,” Nathaniel replied simply. He carried the boy out to the car and buckled him into the backseat.
Nathaniel drove at high speed until they reached a luxury shopping mall. After parking, he turned to Oliver. “Wait for me here. Clear the paparazzi outside Rosewood Manor before we arrive.”
“Don’t worry, Daddy. I can handle it.” Oliver puffed out his chest confidently and pulled out an iPad.
Inside the mall, Nathaniel grabbed a shopping cart and began scanning the aisles. It was his first time in such a place, but he adapted quickly. Still, he couldn’t ignore the stares from other shoppers.
He filled the cart rapidly—fresh vegetables, gourmet snacks, essential groceries.
Then he reached the feminine hygiene aisle. Nathaniel froze, momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer variety of products. Shoppers around him whispered and stared in admiration.
No.6
“That man is unbelievably handsome! Way hotter than any supermodel or celebrity!”
“Oh my god, is he really buying pads? So gorgeous and thoughtful! I want a man like that!”
“Who’s his girlfriend? She’s the luckiest woman alive! I’d trade places with her in a heartbeat!”
Women nearby pulled out their phones, snapping pictures discreetly. As the crowd thickened, Nathaniel grabbed one of every type of pad on the shelf. He pushed two overflowing carts toward the checkout.
Cashiers rushed to assist him, their hearts racing just from being near him.
His purchases were packed into several large bags. Suddenly, five bodyguards in black appeared, loading the bags into the car. As Nathaniel reached the exit, he turned to Dominic. “Handle everyone who took photos.”
“Understood,” Dominic nodded, moving off to erase every digital trace.
Back at Rosewood Manor, Isabella lay on her sofa, debating whether to ask her security team to disperse the paparazzi gathered outside. It felt trivial to assign them such a minor task.
Just then, a firm knock sounded at the door. One, two, three raps—steady and evenly spaced.
No.7
Had she forgotten to activate the high-voltage security grid? Who could be knocking?
Frowning, she moved to the window and looked down. Two figures stood at her door—one tall, one small. Nathaniel wore heavily insulated gloves. Beside him stood little Oliver, adorable as always.
How did they get through? Where were the paparazzi?
As if sensing her gaze, Oliver looked up and shouted, “Mommy, open up! We brought you groceries!”
Isabella noticed Nathaniel and Oliver carrying several shopping bags. She had no alternative but to enter the control room and press two red buttons. The security gates at the main entrance retracted smoothly.
Nathaniel stepped inside the manor, holding Oliver's hand. He placed the grocery bags on the table. When Isabella came downstairs, she found her table covered with packages, including multiple bags filled with sanitary pads.
An involuntary smile touched her lips. "Why so many?"