Chapter 509
No.1
Alexander composed a tweet and tagged Isabella.
[Laughable. “Wait until tomorrow night”? Only a fraud like you would spout such nonsense! If you actually make it to the show tomorrow, I, Alexander Whitmore, will owe you 100 million! @IsabellaMontgomery]
As the youngest, wealthiest, and most handsome CEO, he was dubbed the 'National Husband' by his over 40 million followers. Within seconds, his post garnered over 200,000 replies.
[Ahhh! My husband finally tweeted! So commanding and fierce!]
[Even our National Husband can’t stand that witch Isabella Montgomery!]
[Rumor has it Alexander Whitmore is dating Victoria Kensington. Is he defending her?]
[That’s irrelevant! Didn’t Isabella tell us to wait until tomorrow night? If she’s so capable, why is she hiding?]
Unbeknownst to them, Isabella had long logged off her account and was working out in her private gym at Rosewood Manor.
As her agent, Julian Hawthorne was tasked with monitoring the situation. After Professor Zero’s video went viral, he expected the hate toward Isabella to die down, but the attacks quickly resumed, especially with Alexander’s involvement. He had no choice but to leave the sofa and bring this to Isabella’s attention.
No.2
In the gym, Isabella was dressed in form-fitting workout attire, relentlessly punching a heavy bag. Sweat glistened on her toned body, her damp skin highlighting her untamed beauty.
Julian, like any man would, was momentarily captivated, but he quickly shook off the distraction. “Isabella, your ex-boyfriend just declared war on Twitter,” he said. “Do you have a moment?”
Ex-Fiancé?
“Alexander Whitmore? That disgusting piece of trash?” Isabella’s expression darkened instantly.
“Correct. He issued a public challenge. If you manage to win over the audience with your charm, he’ll owe you one hundred million dollars,” Julian Hawthorne stated calmly.
She scoffed. “Do I look like I need an extra hundred million?” Turning back to her training, she delivered a powerful blow to the heavy bag.
Thump!
The hundred-pound bag swung violently from the impact.
Julian stared, momentarily stunned, though he really shouldn’t have been surprised. This was pure Isabella.
No.3
But she wasn’t finished. She pulled off her gloves, grabbed her phone, and typed a swift reply to Alexander.
[Disgusting! AlexanderWhitmore]
She attached a picture of her raised middle finger.
The internet exploded. The nation's most eligible bachelor called 'disgusting' by Isabella Montgomery? A man worth thirty billion dollars publicly given the finger?
[OMG! Is this woman insane? Alexander is perfection! How dare she!]
[No wonder she was disowned. Absolute trash!]
[Too cowardly to accept the challenge? Stop using my future husband for clout!]
[Someone needs to teach her a lesson! I volunteer!]
The hate flooded her mentions, a torrent of vicious comments.
No.4
Isabella remained completely unbothered. Their words meant nothing to her. Her phone rang. She answered to hear Harrison Winslow breathing heavily. “Boss! Are you seeing the attacks online?” he gasped.
“Mhmm,” was her simple, uninterested reply.
Harrison was shocked. Who would be stupid enough to come for her? In the last five years, no one had dared cross Isabella Montgomery!
Well, except for Julian, who sometimes had a death wish.
“Boss, should I get on a plane? I can handle this!”
“Unnecessary. Focus on your job. If quarterly profits aren’t up by ten percent, don’t even think about your bonus.” She ended the call without another word.
Harrison was left speechless, a mix of concern and regret washing over him. He shouldn't have called.
Seeing she was off the phone, Julian seized the moment. “The public here prefers humble celebrities. A low profile is advisable. They won’t react well if they discover your true identity, or the power you wield.”
“Relax. I know exactly what I’m doing,” she assured him, already scrolling through her phone again. A thought struck her. She logged back into her social media and posted a new challenge.
No.5
[Challenge accepted. If I lose, I pay you ten billion. But if I win, I don’t want your money. I want a live stream of you eating sh*t. Do we have a deal?]
She attached two more photos of her middle finger for emphasis.
Julian could only stare in disbelief. This is her idea of keeping a low profile? When will she ever learn? He sighed, a strange mix of annoyance and amusement twisting inside him.
On the other end, Alexander’s face contorted with rage. How dare she speak to him with such arrogance? This was the same woman who used to follow him around like a pathetic puppy! Fuming, his fingers flew to type a retort, but Victoria stopped him.
“Alexander, darling, don’t be rash. She would not be this confident without a reason. What if she actually wins—”
“Win? Her?” he spat, a cruel laugh escaping him. “I knew her for eighteen years. She was vulgar, talentless, and utterly worthless. Five years abroad doesn’t change that. She’s a paper tiger. Walking a runway requires real skill, confidence, experience. The entire world will be watching, judging her every move. There is no way she can win them all.”
His fingers typed out his reply with furious certainty.
[You’re on. I hope you have ten billion ready!]
He was absolutely convinced of her failure.
No.6
Isabella let out a cold laugh at Alexander’s response and quickly typed back.
[Someone should decide if they prefer human or cow excrement. Or perhaps pick up stray dog shit off the street?]
Neither side was backing down. A bet worth a century’s fortune had just been made. Fans on Twitter erupted into chaos. A live stream of someone actually eating feces versus ten billion dollars in cash—what could be more insane? Everyone was buzzing with anticipation for Chanel’s show the next day.
Isabella remained perfectly calm. She tossed her phone aside and turned to Julian. “Be ready for tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t disappoint you.” With that, Julian turned and left.
He was only her agent, after all. He wouldn’t be staying at her manor. Isabella locked the door behind him and went to bed early.
Victoria, however, wasn’t so relaxed.
She tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Something felt off. Isabella had returned as a completely different person. It was shocking that she could afford the black-green meteorite. As Alexander’s lover, it would be humiliating if he lost the bet.
An idea suddenly sparked in her mind. She got out of bed and knocked on Sophia’s door.
No.7
The door opened, revealing Sophia’s confused expression. “Victoria, you’re still awake?”
“Mhm… I can’t stop thinking about Isabella. I’m worried about you,” Victoria sighed.
Sophia frowned. “Worried about me? Why?”
“Oh, Sophia… You saw what Isabella posted online. She’s building an image of being ‘bold and arrogant,’ just like you. And she’s being even more flashy about it.” Victoria paused. “If she dazzles everyone at the show tomorrow night, she might just replace you.”
“Replace me? Is she even capable?” Sophia retorted mockingly, eyeing Victoria. “Victoria, have you lost your mind? I’ve been in this industry for five years. I may not be as popular as you, but I’m one of the country’s top ten supermodels. She’s a nobody. How could she possibly replace me?”
Victoria gripped her hand tightly. “Sophia, the fact that Chanel signed her today proves she has talent. Haven’t you noticed how different she is now? Don’t underestimate her.”
Sophia recalled Isabella’s striking presence on stage. Her face was mesmerizing. Any woman would envy her beauty. Those long, perfectly sculpted legs.
A sudden sense of danger prickled under Sophia’s skin. “Don’t worry. I’ll give it my all. I’ll practice my runway walk right now.”
“One more thing, Sophia: take care of yourself. Isabella has already targeted me twice since she returned. I’m afraid she might come after you, too. Be careful,” Victoria warned softly. “But these are just my suspicions. Isabella is still family. Be kind to her. Don’t make things worse.”