Chapter 517
No.1
“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.
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?”
No.2
“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.”
Victoria and Alexander looked up to see Sophia Kensington striding toward their table.
“Sophia? What are you talking about?” Victoria asked, feigning confusion.
No.3
“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.”
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.”
No.4
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.”
“I despise women like her. Popularity? Fans? I don’t care about the backlash. Justice must be served!”
The post included damning photos. Isabella with the meteorite. Isabella on the Hypersport. Isabella surrounded by bodyguards. A life of obscene luxury.
No.5
And finally, the photo with Prince Harrison.
The comments section erupted.
“OMG! Her money makes sense now! Prince Harrison’s mistress!”
“She didn’t just sleep with anyone. She bagged a prince. No wonder she’s so arrogant.”
“Prince Harrison and Princess Arabella’s wedding was legendary! 99 wedding cars! They were perfect! How could she ruin that?”
“Disgusting! Destroying a family for money! Morally bankrupt!”
The public forgot Alexander’s promised live-stream. The scandal was all-consuming.
Isabella’s new fans, fickle from a single show, abandoned her instantly.
Isabella was at home, a silk mask smoothing her skin, when her phone began buzzing incessantly.
No.6
It wouldn’t stop.
She reached for it, answering to the sound of Maxwell Carter’s frantic, panicked breathing.
“Boss, we have a situation!” Maxwell’s voice crackled through the phone. “Photos of you and Harrison Winslow are all over the internet. The forums are exploding.”
He took a sharp breath. “And Sophia Kensington just leaked your address. Paparazzi are swarming your location right now.”
Isabella Montgomery remained perfectly still. A handheld device hummed softly against her skin, casting a cool blue glow across her features.
“Should I arrange a safe house?” Maxwell pressed, urgency tightening his tone. “They’ll have you surrounded within minutes.”
“Since when do I hide?” Her reply was ice-cold and detached. She didn’t flinch.
“What’s the plan then? Should I release a counter-statement? Start damage control?”
“Not yet. It’s too early.” Her voice was firm. Final. She ended the call.
No.7
A low rumble echoed from outside. Isabella moved to the window.
Dozens of vehicles screeched to a halt outside Rosewood Manor. Reporters and photographers surged forward like a tidal wave. Her security team formed a barricade, but the crowd pushed harder, shouting, shoving, relentless.
Within moments, the villa was completely surrounded. The noise escalated into a chaotic roar.
“Isabella Montgomery! Did you have an affair with Harrison Winslow?”
“Are you the reason he’s separating from Princess Arabella?”
“Give us a statement! How long has this been going on?”
The questions were vicious, pointed, designed to provoke. Isabella’s recent success at the Chanel show had put her on the map, but this—this scandal with a prince—catapulted her into a different kind of spotlight. The kind that burns.
She didn’t react. Her expression was unreadable. Calm.