Chapter 1702
No.1
A horrible suspicion took root.
Could this be... him?
"I met with Isadora," he continued, his gaze never leaving her. "She told me everything. I failed your mother. I... I failed you."
"Stop!" Victoria's voice cracked with fury. "I don't want to hear it! Your apologies are worthless!"
She glared at him, her eyes burning with contempt.
"Mother is dead! I survived by hiding in fear among the Montgomerys! Why now? Why today? Do you want to ruin me?"
Tears of anger welled in her eyes.
"Should I announce to everyone that I'm not a true Montgomery? That my father is... a man like you?"
Her words dripped with venom.
No.2
He wore cheap, simple fabrics.
Nothing of value adorned him.
If the Whitmores discovered her connection to this man...
Would Alexander still go through with the wedding?
If society learned she wasn't a Montgomery heiress...
If they knew she was just an ordinary man's daughter...
Her modeling career was already ashes.
This identity was all she had left.
She couldn't lose it.
No.3
"Victoria, please, let me explain—" he began, his voice pleading.
"No! Get out! Leave immediately!" she interrupted, her tone sharp and final. "I never want to see you again! No one can know!"
A sudden thought struck her.
She stood abruptly, moving toward a nearby drawer.
The drawer Victoria opened was packed with neatly stacked cash, her emergency fund for unforeseen troubles.
She grabbed two thick bundles, roughly twenty thousand dollars.
She shoved the money into the man's hands, her grip firm and unyielding. "Get out," she commanded, her voice cold and sharp. "And never let me see your face again."
"Victoria..." he stammered, his eyes wide with a mix of shame and desperation.
"Go!" She spun around, unable to bear the sight of him for another second. His shabby appearance filled her with a deep, burning humiliation. How could she possibly be the daughter of such a pathetic, impoverished man? How could her real parents be so utterly worthless? No. She refused to accept it. She was a princess, the revered Ms. Montgomery. That was her identity. She turned back, a venomous scowl twisting her beautiful features. "Listen carefully," she hissed. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will destroy you. Your life won't be worth living."
No.4
The man flinched, recoiling from the sheer malice in her threat. Defeated, he had no choice. He shuffled toward the door but paused on the threshold. "I wish you happiness, Victoria," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "I'll... I'll come find you when you're not so busy." With that final, feeble promise, he finally disappeared.
Victoria's fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. Find her again? For more money? A father who abandoned her for twenty-three years, only showing up now to leech off her success? Rage simmered inside her.
"Madam," a cautious voice interrupted her furious thoughts. Penelope stepped into the room. "The ceremony is beginning. It's time."
Victoria drew in a sharp, steadying breath. She forced her expression into a placid mask, smoothing away any trace of the darkness that had just consumed her. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, ensuring only elegance and grace remained. Then, she swept out of the room. As she passed Penelope, she issued a quiet, sharp order. "Be ready with the photos." Her mood was ruined, and she was determined to ruin Isabella's day too. Why should she suffer while Isabella thrived? She wanted Isabella branded a gold-digger, despised by every single Montgomery. She wanted Isabella to feel every ounce of the pain she was feeling.
The grand lobby was a spectacle of opulence. A breathtaking floral arch, dripping with romance and beauty, stood as the centerpiece. Guests filled the seats, their chatter a low hum of anticipation. On the stage, the emcee's voice boomed with cheerful excitement. "Let's have a huge round of applause for our beautiful bride and handsome groom!"
All heads turned. The couple appeared at the end of the flower-lined aisle. Victoria held Alexander's arm, a picture of perfect elegance and bliss. A radiant, practiced smile was plastered on her face. Her extravagant gown flowed behind her, its hem glittering with countless exquisite diamonds. Alexander, devastatingly handsome and impeccably dressed in his tailored suit, complemented her perfectly.
The crowd, some of whom had earlier whispered criticisms, was instantly mesmerized. The groom was dashing. The bride was stunning. Together, they looked like a fairytale couple, a match crafted by destiny itself. All of Victoria's past scandals and misdeeds seemed to vanish in that moment, erased by the sheer power of their visual perfection. People could only see her beauty, her poise, her sheer exquisiteness.
With a face and presence like that, no one would dare dispute her claim to being the most beautiful woman in the world.
Victoria saw the awe reflected in their eyes. Her smile widened, triumphant. She lifted her chin higher, her posture becoming even more regal, like a majestic swan gracing a mere pond of mortals.
No.5
Isabella followed behind with the other bridesmaids. Though her beauty was unique and she stood out effortlessly among them, the group was large—nine bridesmaids and nine groomsmen. They moved as a collective unit, making it difficult for any single person to immediately capture attention.
Once on the stage, the wedding party fanned out to either side. A surge of satisfaction washed over Victoria. Isabella was reduced to a mere background character in her grand spectacle. This small victory felt like a sweet, long-awaited payoff for all her simmering resentment and hatred.
Everything was flawless.
Victoria Kensington was the radiant center of attention.
Isabella Montgomery remained in the shadows, just a background character.
She was exactly like the servant she had always been.
Victoria was the one marrying Alexander Whitmore.
She was the one claiming her happily ever after.
Special arrangements had been made for this occasion.
No.6
She exchanged a brief glance with the emcee.
The emcee’s voice boomed with excitement across the grand hall.
“Reaching the sacred union of marriage is never an easy journey.”
“Today, Ms. Victoria Kensington wishes to express her deepest gratitude to every guest present.”
“She has prepared a special musical performance to share with all of you.”
A soft, melodic tune began to play.
The lighting in the hall gradually dimmed, casting a warm, intimate glow.
The massive screen behind the stage flickered to life.
Someone handed Victoria a microphone.
No.7
She accepted it gracefully.
A haunting melody started playing in the background.
She began to sing.
“I’ve grown accustomed to the silence.”
“Where gossip blurs the lines of truth and lies.”
“I close my eyes, and the chaotic world fades.”
“Only one face remains.”
Her voice was filled with melancholy.
The lyrics echoed through the silent hall.