Chapter 1557
No.1
“Even Sophia Kensington might have done better. The title of ‘Number One Top Model’ fits Victoria less every day,” a third person added. Though Victoria couldn't hear the words, she saw the disdain on their faces. Frustration boiled inside her.
She wouldn't be here if she had any other endorsements. This style was completely wrong for her. The leather felt awful against her skin. But the thought of Isabella Montgomery’s impending humiliation kept her going. This temporary disgrace was a small price to pay for that satisfaction.
Time moved quickly. Eleven spectacular new cars had been showcased. Following the plan, all the models froze in their final poses. The music shifted, growing more vibrant and energetic. It swelled, building the atmosphere to a fever pitch.
At the center of the stage, a new runway began to rise. It was immense, at least 100 meters long and half a meter taller than the others. It was a truly impressive structure.
At its end sat a shimmering gold race car. It rested there, gleaming with an exceptionally eye-catching luster. The audience gasped, utterly astounded. This car was the coolest thing any of them had ever seen. Its hard exterior utilized visible cutting-edge technology. Every detail screamed distinction and extravagance.
But where was its model? As murmurs about the missing model spread, a sharp alarm blared through the hall. Then, the gold car roared to life.
With a deafening VROOM!, it accelerated, flying down the short runway at high speed. Panic erupted. The crowd was terrified. Those in the front rows scrambled, ready to bolt for their lives.
A race car on a 100-meter runway was insane! If it flew off the end, countless people would be injured. No one moved to stop it. The car raced on. 10 meters from the edge. 5 meters!
People in the direct path looked ready to faint from sheer terror. The less brave were already fleeing their seats. But then, a miracle. The car screeched to a halt, its tires stopping precisely at the runway's very edge. One hair's breadth more, and it would have plunged into the crowd. The driver's skill was phenomenal. The technical precision was outstanding.
No.2
“Incredible!” someone shouted. “Who is that driver? Such amazing skill!”
“They’d win first place in any racing event!” another cried out.
“It must be a genius, a wizard behind the wheel! Show yourself! Let us see who you are!”
The entire hall waited, buzzing with rapt anticipation.
The entire audience was on the edge of their seats.
Anticipation crackled in the air like electricity.
Everyone was desperate to see the face behind the incredible driving performance.
Sebastian Blackwood had almost skipped the Auto Show entirely.
He had no interest in watching his brother Nathaniel chase after some woman.
No.3
These events were always full of desperate people doing shameless things for attention.
It was usually too cringeworthy to sit through.
But this year was shockingly different.
He had just witnessed the most breathtaking, thrilling driving demonstration of his life.
As a dedicated drag racing enthusiast, he felt completely energized.
He leaned forward with the roaring crowd, eyes fixed on the track.
The door of the gleaming gold race car finally swung open.
A heavy black Doc Martens boot hit the pavement.
Then another.
No.4
They were followed by a pair of incredibly long, sculpted legs.
Those legs were a masterpiece of muscle and grace.
They seemed to go on forever, showcased by a tight black leather skirt.
The rest of the driver’s form emerged from the vehicle.
It was Isabella Montgomery.
The phenomenal driver was Isabella.
She was clad head-to-toe in form-fitting black leather.
The suit hugged every curve and accentuated her narrow waist.
Her dark hair cascaded freely down her back in a simple, elegant style.
No.5
Her presence was utterly commanding.
Dark sunglasses shielded her eyes.
Every detail was mesmerizing.
The crowd exploded.
“Oh my god! She’s flawless!” a voice screamed.
“The racing queen is Isabella Montgomery!” another shouted.
“Since when does she know how to drag race like that?” someone yelled in disbelief.
“Those legs! I would worship those legs forever!”
“This is insane! Unbelievable! My heart is pounding!”
No.6
The cheers swelled into a deafening wave of sound.
Isabella remained perfectly still, utterly unfazed by the frenzy.
Her expression was one of cool, detached arrogance.
She slid off the car’s hood and removed her sunglasses.
She casually leaned against the golden vehicle.
She looked like a champion racer savoring a hard-won victory.
Her entire posture was relaxed, confident, and utterly free.
The excitement in the room skyrocketed.
The audience couldn't stop cheering.
No.7
“Heavens! She’s a goddess! Absolute perfection!”
“This is a world-class show! She’s a world-class model!”
“Her presence dwarfs every other blonde model here! She represents us all!”
Reporters frantically snapped pictures, their cameras clicking nonstop.
The other supermodels had been working hard with elaborate poses.
They were trying desperately to capture the crowd’s attention.
Isabella had barely moved a muscle.
Yet, in under ten seconds, she had completely stolen the show.