Chapter 1770
No.1
“The list?” she asked, striding into the room.
“Maxwell is running deep background checks on every name. Results should be in shortly. However,” he said, his tone shifting, “there’s a more pressing issue.” He placed the folder on the coffee table. “Someone is digging. They’re investigating your five years in Africa. Due to an oversight on my part, this photograph was discovered.”
He slid a single photo across the polished surface.
In it, Isabella stood radiant in a crimson bandeau gown. Beside her was a man of regal bearing, his attire dripping with opulence, every finger adorned with massive, glittering diamond rings. He was presenting her with a diamond the size of a pigeon’s egg.
Her brow furrowed. “This was supposed to be destroyed. If they connect the dots…”
“All other copies were. It seems Harrison Winslow kept one for himself. Sophia Kensington now has it,” Julian stated, closing the folder. “We can silence her. Or buy off every major media outlet to contain it.”
“No. It’s too late for that.” Isabella walked to the sideboard and poured a glass of water. She swirled the liquid, watching it spin. “If she’s found it, then let her play her hand. I just hope she’s prepared for the consequences.” Her voice was deceptively light, laced with a chilling promise of retribution.
Julian’s frown deepened. “You want to expose her ourselves?”
“It’s insignificant.”
No.2
That same evening, Twitter erupted.
#IsabellaMontgomery
#IsabellaFireflies
#IsabellaFlawlessFall
#IsabellaHeels
#Chanel160thAnniversary
#3DHolographicImaging
#AlexanderWhitmoreEatsShit
Six of the top ten trending topics were about Isabella. Clips of her performance were everywhere, transformed into animated GIFs and viral videos on platforms like YouTube, amassing millions of views and an avalanche of praise.
No.3
The internet erupted in a frenzy of adoration.
Comments flooded in, each more awestruck than the last.
“OMG! Isabella Montgomery is a goddess! That walk, those legs, her presence…utterly hypnotic! A supermodel reborn!”
“Other models have one good feature. She has them all. Her face, her legs, her aura…every inch of her radiates power. I’m obsessed.”
“Now I get her ‘sit back and watch’ comment. No wonder she took the finale from Victoria. Honestly, Victoria would’ve face-planted in those heels.”
“Agreed. Isabella owns the stage. Confidence is everything.”
“Didn’t Victoria Kensington trip and look pathetic? Isabella is my queen.”
Netizens crowned Isabella a hero. Even her former critics publicly apologized.
On Alexander Whitmore’s feed, the tone was starkly different.
No.4
“Wow. National Husband really has to eat shit on live stream? That’s gonna be disgusting.”
“You had a chance to perform too, right? Be a man and honor the bet. Stream it!”
“No way! Absolutely not! Isabella was just average to me.”
“Be civil. Admit when you’re wrong. She was stunning. Try to negotiate your way out of this.”
“Yeah, eating actual feces is impossible. Surely she’ll accept something else?”
In a luxurious restaurant, Alexander scowled at his phone. He never imagined Isabella would look so commanding, so devastatingly beautiful. His plan had spectacularly backfired.
He had issued the challenge publicly. As CEO of Whitmore Enterprises, backing out would destroy his credibility. But eating actual waste? The thought was unbearable.
Victoria sat beside him, seething with jealousy as she read the forums. That should have been her on that stage, captivating everyone. Isabella had ruined her reputation with that leaked video. Now she was a laughingstock, forced into hiding.
Worse, she saw the captivated look in Alexander’s eyes as he stared at Isabella’s photos. She couldn’t let that usurper steal her spotlight…or her man.
No.5
An idea formed. She lowered her head and began to sob softly. “Alexander, darling… I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. The 3D projection was my idea. I was brainstorming for my finale, and Isabella must have overheard me discussing it with my assistant. To use it against you like this…”
Alexander stared at her, shocked. “The projection was your idea?”
“It was. I spent weeks researching it, perfecting it for my show. You can ask my assistant if you don’t believe me.” Victoria shot a look at her assistant, Sophia, who was hovering nearby, and signaled her over.
Sophia hurried forward. “It’s true, Mr. Whitmore! Miss Kensington worked tirelessly on it. She stayed up for nights—”
“Sophia, don’t,” Victoria interrupted with a choked sob. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so careless, she never would have stolen it. Her victory today… it’s because of my work. It’s all my fault.” She cried silently, playing the victim perfectly.
Alexander immediately pulled her into an embrace. “Don’t cry. I don’t blame you. This is Isabella’s fault! I wondered how she could be so clever. She stole your idea! What a shameless, vile woman!”
“Alexander, maybe… maybe I should go to her. She’s my sister. If I beg her, she might let you out of the bet.” Victoria made a move to stand, feigning resolve.
He held her tighter. “Absolutely not. You are the heiress of the Kensington family. My future wife. You will not debase yourself before that woman. We will find another way. There has to be another way.”
“Of course there is,” a confident, angry voice cut in. “I have information that will destroy Isabella Montgomery.”
No.6
Victoria and Alexander looked up to see Sophia Kensington striding toward their table.
“Sophia? What are you talking about?” Victoria asked, feigning confusion.
“I had someone dig into Isabella’s past five years. What they found is… very interesting. Look.” Sophia sat down opposite them and placed her phone on the table.
Alexander and Victoria stared at Isabella’s phone screen.
A photo of Isabella Montgomery standing beside a man in royal regalia filled the display.
The man was handing her a massive, glittering diamond.
They looked intimate. Happy.
Alexander’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t that Harrison Winslow? The Diamond Prince of South Africa?”
“Exactly,” Sophia confirmed, a vicious smirk twisting her lips. “That’s her sugar daddy. The reason she’s rolling in cash. Imagine this photo going viral. Her glorious comeback? Ruined. Alexander’s live-stream promise? Forgotten. She’ll be finished.”
No.7
Victoria masked her thrill behind a facade of concern. “But… Prince Harrison is married. His wedding to Princess Arabella was a global spectacle. They’re a beloved couple. If this gets out, Isabella will be branded a home-wrecker. Public opinion will destroy her.”
“So what?” Sophia snapped. “After everything she’s done to you? She deserves it. She’s living lavishly on another woman’s husband’s money. She should be exposed. She should feel the shame.”
Alexander’s expression turned to ice. “So this is her transformation. Five years abroad, and she becomes a mistress. If she chooses this path, she must face the consequences.”
Victoria gave a reluctant, almost pained nod. “I suppose… it must be done. For her own good. Maybe the media scrutiny will make her see reason. Make her stop hurting their family.”
That night, the headline exploded across the internet.
[ISABELLA MONTGOMERY SEDUCES SOUTH AFRICA’S DIAMOND PRINCE!]
Sophia’s post accompanied the viral story.
“We were overjoyed at Isabella’s return to the Montgomery family. But her sudden, immense wealth was shocking. The black-green meteorite. The properties. The fleet of hypercars. Our family provided a modest allowance. Where did this fortune truly come from?”
“My contacts in South Africa uncovered the truth. Isabella is a home-wrecker. Not just any, but the mistress of Diamond Prince Harrison Winslow! She chose money over morals, destroying a beautiful marriage.”