Chapter 625

No.1

The grand hall fell silent, leaving the three of them behind. Vivienne’s hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. Men lined up for her favor across the globe. Why was Nathaniel Blackwood the only one utterly immune?

Beatrice took her hand, patting it gently. “Don’t take it to heart, Vivienne. He’s always been like this, stubborn and cold. You’ve both been busy with your companies. You haven’t had time to build a connection. Feelings need cultivation.” She smiled reassuringly. “Starting today, come by the estate every day. Spend a few hours with Christopher. Get to know them both.”

“But… wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Vivienne murmured, lowering her eyes.

“Nonsense,” Beatrice said firmly. “I am still the lady of this house. You will come. Three to four hours a day. Make yourself at home.”

“I understand your work demands attention, but your marriage deserves equal priority. You must invest more energy into this.”

Vivienne pressed her lips together. After a moment, she gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. I’ll try.”

Susan turned to address the household staff. “Take note. Miss Delacroix will soon be the lady of this house. You will treat her with the utmost respect.”

“Yes, Madam.” The maids kept their heads bowed, scarcely daring to breathe.

Vivienne’s gaze drifted toward the hallway where Nathaniel had vanished. A flicker of fierce resolve ignited in her eyes.

Isabella rode her motorcycle back to Rosewood Manor. The air inside felt colder, emptier than she remembered. She had grown too accustomed to the warmth of the Blackwood Estate.

No.2

She would need to readjust. Once she told Nathaniel the truth, he might never allow a woman like her near Oliver again. In two months, when the contract ended, she would likely leave for good.

She rubbed her temples, pushing the thoughts aside. She focused on tidying the villa she hadn't visited in weeks.

Her phone rang, shattering the silence. She checked the caller ID and answered.

“Boss Montgomery, Nathaniel’s men conducted an extensive background check on you overnight. We’ve handled it. The higher-ups are aware. They urge you to complete your task with Nathaniel quickly.”

Isabella remained calm. “I’m aware. I have it under control.”

“The two senior mentors emphasized they have arranged marriage plans for you. This isn’t just about the mission. You need to distance yourself from Nathaniel immediately,” Maxwell cautioned.

Isabella let out a short, derisive laugh. “Did their R&D project fail again? Are they still trying to marry me off to that American?”

“You guessed it, Boss Montgomery…” Maxwell gave an awkward chuckle before his tone turned serious. “It’s not like that. They only want what’s best for you. Frederick Ashford is an excellent match. Young, accomplished, kind, and considerate. Most importantly, he knows about your past and accepts it completely. He’s willing to dedicate his life to you.”

Isabella brewed a cup of coffee, her movements steady. “Tell them to stop. Arranged marriages are archaic. If their project is stalled, they can wait for me to fix it. They don’t need to auction me off. If that’s all, I’m hanging up.”

She was ready to end the call, her patience thin.

No.3

“Wait, Boss Montgomery! One more thing! Victoria convinced Harrison to keep her secret. She visited Alexander again last night. They were together.”

Isabella’s brow furrowed. She quickly pieced together Victoria’s scheme. “Monitor her,” she ordered coolly. “But do not intervene without my direct order.”

“Understood. Oh, and Boss Montgomery, I sent Frederick Ashford’s photos to your WhatsApp. Please remember to look at them!” Maxwell spoke rapidly and hung up before she could react.

Isabella saw the notification but ignored it. She placed her phone aside without opening the app. She stood by the window, gazing thoughtfully at the forest beyond.

She had met Frederick three years ago during a joint research project. He was the ideal gentleman, every woman's dream. Exceptionally gentle, attentive, and a brilliant collaborator. Since then, he had maintained close ties with her mentors, persistently seeking information about her.

Isabella knew of his feelings. She had asked her mentors to disclose the incident from five years ago, expecting him to retreat. Instead, he had waited for her all this time.

She found it puzzling. Revealing her past to Frederick had been effortless. Yet, the thought of confessing to Nathaniel filled her with dread. If he discovered her secrets, would he accept her as Frederick had?

The phone buzzed insistently.

Isabella Montgomery glanced at the screen. She expected Oliver Blackwood calling about dinner, but Julian Hawthorne's name flashed instead.

She answered. Julian's tense voice filled her ear. "We have a situation. Arabella Fontaine's mistress scandal just broke. She's threatening to jump from the company balcony right now."

No.4

"Suicide?" Isabella's brow furrowed.

Adrian Sinclair's panicked voice cut in. "It's bad! Ms. Montgomery, you need to get here! This is my new building! She's our first major signing!"

"We paid one-point-five billion for her contract termination," Julian added grimly. "The Celestial Gala contract has a five-billion penalty clause if the artist can't perform."

Total potential loss: six-point-five billion. Plus incalculable reputational damage.

"Understood. I'm on my way." Isabella ended the call and strode from Violet Villa. She scrolled through news headlines while walking.

(Top Model Arabella Fontaine Exposed as Mistress!)

Several compromising photos accompanied the article.

(Arabella signed with SilverPeak seven years ago. She consistently received preferential treatment, better resources, and a carefully crafted public persona. The reason? A longstanding affair with SilverPeak CEO Harrison Winslow! Her contract buyout was orchestrated through their illicit relationship!

(Harrison Winslow is a married man. His wife, Genevieve Beaumont, was a beloved actress! Seven years ago, Genevieve won the Golden Eagle Goddess Award for her charming looks and stellar performances. At just twenty-three, she became a national treasure!

(Her future seemed limitless. Then, at her career peak, she suddenly retired and vanished from public life.

No.5

(Rumors suggested she married a billionaire. No one imagined she wed Harrison Winslow!

(Genevieve captivated audiences as the girl-next-door in teen dramas. Despite her seven-year absence, no one has ever taken her 'Sweetest Goddess' title.)

The internet erupted in fury.

(How dare Arabella wreck Genevieve's marriage!)

(My sweet Genevieve! She left for a quiet life! This is heartbreaking!)

(Arabella is disgusting! That gentle, foodie persona was a lie! She's a homewrecker!)

(She should die!)

Isabella pocketed her phone and mounted her motorcycle. Something felt off. Her first meeting with Arabella left an impression of clear, earnest eyes. A gentle, innocent aura. A mistress? The photos seemed authentic, though.

She needed answers. Fast.

Isabella revved the engine and sped toward GoldenPhoenix. The building had fifteen floors, each five meters high. Arabella perched precariously on the ninth-floor balcony railing.

No.6

A hostile crowd gathered below, hurling vicious insults.

"Not ashamed to sleep with a married man, but ashamed to get caught? This is just a performance!"

"Real suicide attempts aren't public spectacles! You're acting!"

"Jump! Stop wasting our time! Only your death can apologize to Genevieve!" The cruel shouts echoed upward.

Isabella Montgomery arrived on her motorcycle, a streak of black against the city skyline. She pulled off her helmet, her gaze icy as it swept over the security team. "What are we paying you for? To stand around and look pretty? Clear this mess. Now."

"Yes, Ms. Montgomery." The guards snapped to attention, fear evident in their hurried movements as they began pushing back the screaming crowd.

Voices rose in a chaotic wave. "Isabella! How could you support a homewrecker? Have you no shame?"

"After what your own sister did to you! Don't you understand Genevieve's pain?"

"That woman destroyed a family! A child is involved! She deserves worse than death!"

Isabella ignored the vitriol. Words were a waste of time. Action was the only currency that mattered here. Most of the mob had been contained, reinforcements were on their way.

No.7

She strode into the building, her heels clicking a sharp rhythm on the marble floor. Adrian Sinclair rushed to meet her, his usual composure shattered. "Isabella, thank god. What's the plan? The rescue team's vehicle broke down. They're saying thirty minutes. She could be... it could be too late by then."

He was her older cousin, but right now, he sounded like a panicked child.

Isabella remained unnervingly calm. She moved toward the elevator. "Get me a rope. Heavy-duty gloves. Now."

"Gloves? A rope? For what? To pull her back? She's completely lost it, Isabella! She won't let anyone near!"

Adrian, normally unflappable, was fraying at the edges. This was a crisis unlike any he'd faced.