Chapter 1868
No.1
Three more notifications chimed in quick succession.
Nathaniel: (If I fail to save your brother, you may take my life.)
Nathaniel: (Trust me.)
Oliver: (Don’t worry, Mommy! Daddy and I will deal with the bad people. We’ve got your back! Bring home lots of trophies—Momo wants to see them!)
A wave of emotion washed over Isabella.
No one had ever stood behind her like this before.
Not in her entire life.
It felt… good.
Really good.
If Nathaniel said he would handle it, he would.
There was nothing Nathaniel Blackwood couldn’t solve.
She typed a quick reply: (Okay.)
Then she settled back into her seat.
Outwardly, she was the picture of calm.
No.2
Meanwhile, in a private hospital room…
Victoria Kensington had the awards ceremony streaming on the television.
Eleanor Kensington had stepped out briefly.
Half an hour ago, Seraphina Delacroix’s assistant had informed her—the plan had failed.
Worse, unless something major derailed the event, Isabella would soon be on that stage.
Accepting awards that should have been Victoria’s.
That stage was hers.
The spotlight was meant for her.
Yet here she was, trapped in a hospital bed, humiliated and in pain.
Isabella didn’t deserve any of it.
If Victoria couldn’t have it, neither could Isabella.
Driven by bitter rage, Victoria had paid men to kidnap Benjamin Kensington.
She’d waited for Isabella to panic and rush out of the ceremony.
She knew Isabella better than anyone.
No.3
Cold on the outside, but fiercely protective of the Montgomerys.
Why else would she have returned to torment Victoria?
Victoria eagerly anticipated the moment Isabella would flee.
She imagined Isabella being shoved off a cliff by those hired men.
The thought brought a twisted smile to her face.
But Isabella hadn’t moved.
Why wasn’t she leaving?
Had the kidnappers failed?
She snatched her phone and texted them: (What’s happening? Why is she still there?)
Victoria’s jaw tightened. (Keep messaging her! Don’t stop!)
Back in the auditorium, Isabella’s phone lit up repeatedly.
Email after email flooded her screen.
(Isabella, if you don’t come now, I will kill him!)
(This is not a joke! I’ll make sure no evidence is left!)
No.4
(Look at this deep water! Don’t you think your brother is scared?)
(You have fifteen minutes! I’m not bluffing!)
Isabelle glanced dismissively at the screen.
A strange, unwavering faith had taken root inside her.
She trusted Nathaniel completely.
If he couldn’t save Benjamin, her presence would change nothing.
Nathaniel Blackwood was the most capable man in the world.
On stage, the host’s voice boomed through the hall.
“The next award is for 2020’s Most Popular Supermodel. The nominees are Genevieve Laurent, Sofia, Isabella Montgomery…”
Ten names were announced.
Their portraits flashed across the massive screen.
In her hospital bed, Victoria clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
Why?
Why was Isabella still sitting there?
No.5
Why didn’t she care about her brother?
Watching Isabella win on that stage would be a fate worse than death.
“And the winner is…” the host paused for dramatic effect, “Isabella Montgomery!”
The name ‘Isabella Montgomery’ illuminated the screen.
Thunderous applause erupted throughout the venue.
Every spotlight and camera lens swiveled to focus on her.
Isabella Montgomery remained seated, a flawless smile gracing her lips as she faced the cameras. Her image dominated the massive screen while the host's voice echoed through the grand hall.
"Isabella Montgomery, age twenty-three, first captivated the global fashion scene at Chanel's Jewelry Exhibition. Her subsequent Guci campaign shattered sales records, surpassing last year's top model Victoria Kensington."
"Her appearance at the International Auto Show garnered tens of millions of followers! Her bridal photoshoot achieved unprecedented viral success! Isabella Montgomery is undoubtedly 2020's most celebrated supermodel! This recognition is truly deserved!"
"Let's give another round of applause for Isabella Montgomery!"
Thunderous applause erupted throughout the venue. The screen displayed a stunning array of Isabella's photographs, each showcasing her versatility and mastery of different styles. The applause intensified as fellow models acknowledged her superiority with genuine admiration. Her perfect features, diverse styling, and professional excellence placed her in a league far beyond their reach.
Beneath the admiring gazes of the audience, Isabella rose gracefully. Her long gown flowed behind her like liquid gold, catching the light with every movement. Standing at her full height, she radiated both beauty and regal confidence.
She embodied the ceremony's true royalty.
As she ascended the stage, a revered icon of the modeling industry presented her trophy. Beatrice Worthington, though in her seventies, maintained the elegance of a woman decades younger. Her presence exuded timeless grace and sophistication.
No.6
Isabella met the woman's gaze with equal poise. She accepted the trophy with a respectful bow. "Thank you," she stated with genuine appreciation.
Beatrice studied Isabella with keen admiration. "You truly are exceptional, my dear. So breathtaking it almost inspires envy! Does Ms. Montgomery have any words for everyone today?"
Isabella's fingers traced the weighty trophy before she turned toward the cameras. A confident smile touched her crimson lips. "Next year, this won't be enough."
Six words delivered with absolute conviction and power.
The venue erupted in renewed cheers and applause. Only Isabella could make such a bold declaration at this prestigious event. The Most Popular Supermodel Award carried immense honor. Was she already aiming for next year's Top Model title?
An audacious claim indeed!
In their hospital rooms, both Victoria Kensington and Seraphina Delacroix watched the ceremony with seething rage. This two-month modeling newcomer dared challenge them publicly! Worse, Isabella's radiance on stage was utterly maddening. Her flawless perfection provoked bitter jealousy.
How could such a woman be allowed to thrive? It was unacceptable!
Suddenly, all lights in the venue extinguished. Darkness enveloped the grand hall. Isabella's smile vanished as her instincts sharpened. Her eyes scanned the surroundings with heightened alertness.
A single spotlight illuminated her position. Another beam focused on the stage's rear entrance. There stood a man holding an enormous bouquet of roses, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit.
Alexander Whitmore!
Alexander here? Now?
What was happening?
Before Isabella could process the situation, Alexander advanced toward her. Each step echoed through the silent hall as spotlights tracked his movement. Under the brilliant lights, he resembled a storybook prince making a grand entrance.
No.7
The audience erupted in excited murmurs.
"Incredible!"
"Alexander Whitmore! Did he coordinate this with the organizers? A public apology to Isabella?"
"Heavens! This is so romantic!"
Throughout the murmuring crowd, women watched with dreamy admiration. While others swooned, Isabella's expression tightened. She stood perfectly still as he approached. "What are you doing here?"
Was this really about a public apology? No, something else had to be unfolding.
Just as anticipated, Alexander approached Isabella Montgomery.
His gaze appeared filled with admiration.
He had meticulously evaluated his circumstances over recent days.
The Whitmore family stocks had plummeted drastically.
Members of the Montgomery family began opposing his leadership.
Isabella represented his final opportunity for redemption.