Chapter 866

No.1

As they spoke, the car approached near the manor’s main entrance. “Stop here,” Isabella instructed.

Nathaniel pulled over immediately, turning the wheel smoothly.

Isabella turned to Benjamin. “Can you walk?”

The drug’s effects had worn off by now. He opened the door and stepped out.

“I’ll escort him in,” Isabella told Nathaniel. “Wait here for me.”

“Alright,” Nathaniel replied in his low, husky voice, offering no further comment.

As Isabella exited the car, Nathaniel’s gaze lingered thoughtfully on her retreating figure. Clearly, she wanted a private conversation with Benjamin—likely concerning that incident from five years ago. At The Ritz-Carlton, she had warned him not to pry into her privacy. Benjamin likewise refused to disclose details. What truly happened five years ago?

Oliver’s small head popped up from the backseat. “Daddy, should I go with them?”

“Don’t,” Nathaniel’s voice was low and firm. “We must respect her privacy.”

Even though every fiber of his being screamed to uncover the truth, Nathaniel would never pry. Not unless Isabella chose to confide in him herself.

No.2

Benjamin simply nodded and slipped into the car, waiting quietly.

Outside the Montgomery estate…

Isabella and Benjamin walked side by side along the tall iron fence. As they reached the gate, Isabella stopped and turned to him. “Not a word to anyone about Nathaniel saving you today. Or about my connection to him.”

Benjamin’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

These were two of the most powerful people in the city. Anyone else would flaunt such an association. Why was she deliberately hiding it?

A dark suspicion crossed his mind. “Isabella,” he said urgently, “tell me the truth. Are you his mistress?”

His mistress?

She shot him a sharp, icy glare. “Do I look like the type to be anyone’s mistress?”

“Then why the secrecy?” he pressed. “And why did that boy call you ‘Mommy’?”

Isabella’s gaze flickered toward the luxury car idling in the distance. Her voice dropped to a hushed tone. “That’s none of your concern. I have my reasons. My own plans. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will make sure Grandfather reconsiders his decision about you.”

No.3

With that, she turned to leave.

Benjamin quickly grabbed her arm, his expression grave. “I don’t care what’s between you and Nathaniel Blackwood. But you need to understand… it can never work. He asked me about what happened five years ago. I didn’t tell him anything. But if he ever finds out the truth, he will leave you. You should end it now, before you get hurt.”

Isabella’s brow furrowed slightly. So Nathaniel had been asking about the past. After the scene Alexander caused at the Celestial Gala, it wasn’t entirely surprising.

She pulled her arm free from his grasp. “I know what I’m doing.”

Benjamin watched her walk away, a complex mix of emotions swirling within him. The Isabella he remembered was the girl everyone looked down on, the one who had supposedly betrayed Alexander five years ago. Now she was involved with Nathaniel Blackwood? She was wealthy and powerful in her own right. Why would she choose this path? It wasn’t his business anyway. She was just an adopted member of the family. They weren’t even related by blood…

Isabella returned to the car. Out of habit, her hand moved toward the passenger door. But Benjamin’s warning echoed in her mind. She changed direction and slid into the backseat instead.

Nathaniel’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, noting the change. He said nothing, simply starting the engine and pulling away.

Inside the car, Oliver was curled against Isabella’s side. He peeked at Nathaniel in the front seat, then at Isabella beside him. Deciding to play asleep, he closed his eyes tightly. Soon, soft, rhythmic snores escaped him, like a contented little kitten.

Isabella gently brushed the hair from his forehead, her heart aching with a familiar sorrow. If her own child had lived, he would be about Oliver’s age now. How wonderful it would be to watch him grow. To be his mother.

But would Nathaniel ever be able to accept her past?

No.4

She caught herself. Cough. What was she thinking? Wanting Nathaniel’s acceptance? What was wrong with her?

The car came to a stop at a red light. Nathaniel glanced up, his eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “Julian threatened you today?”

Isabella gave a noncommittal hum, not really wanting to discuss it.

Nathaniel’s voice was steady, his gaze intense even through the reflection. “No matter how difficult the situation,” he said, “you can always come to me.”

Nothing in this world was beyond Nathaniel Blackwood's reach. Isabella Montgomery only needed to speak the words.

As the memory of the incident replayed in her mind, Isabella leaned back into the plush seat, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. "It's a trivial issue," she stated flatly. "I'll handle it myself." She closed her eyes immediately after, a clear dismissal. She wanted no further discussion on the matter.

Nathaniel's gaze darkened, a flicker of concern shadowing his features. He hadn't seen her this visibly perturbed in a long while. Yet, if she chose not to confide in him, he would wait. He had infinite patience for her.

Meanwhile…

Victoria Kensington was locked in a bathroom stall, her voice a tense half-whisper into her phone. "What do you mean they all ran? They refused the money?"

"Yes," confirmed Penelope Sinclair on the other end. "They claimed Boss Blackwood intervened to save Benjamin."

No.5

Victoria's fist slammed against the cold marble sink. Damn it! While Alexander Whitmore was making a grand, public spectacle of proposing to Isabella, Nathaniel was quietly solving her problems in the shadows. What had that woman done to earn such unwavering devotion from two of the most powerful men?

The sheer injustice of it was enough to make her blood boil. To make it worse, Alexander wasn't even answering her calls anymore. The distance he was putting between them was painfully obvious.

She forced her voice to steady. "Did you acquire the perfume as I instructed?"

"Yes, but the final bid at auction escalated to ninety million. Are you absolutely certain you wish to proceed?" Penelope's tone was cautious.

Ninety million for a bottle of perfume! It felt like daylight robbery.

With Isabella having seized the majority of her assets, Victoria's financial reserves were critically low. This perfume, however, could be the key to turning everything around…

"Purchase it. At any cost!" she commanded, her voice sharp. "I'll arrange the transfer. Just secure it."

"Understood."

The moment the call ended, Victoria's heart ached with the financial blow. She was forced to liquidate a significant portion of her remaining luxury—a collection of over ten limited-edition handbags and several jewelry sets—selling them at a steep discount to a wealthy socialite acquaintance just to scrape together the exorbitant sum.

Once the transaction was confirmed, a vicious, calculating smile twisted her lips. The sting of the cost was real, a physical pain. But she would make this perfume earn its weight in gold, and then some. She picked up her phone again, her fingers swiftly searching for Nathaniel Blackwood's private contact details.

No.6

That evening, the aftermath of the Celestial Gala ignited fierce debates across social media. Seraphina Delacroix's conspicuous absence. Arabella Fontaine's shocking ascent to claim the title of No.1 Supermodel and the Award for Most Commercial Value. And, most explosively, the swirling rumors concerning Isabella Montgomery and Alexander Whitmore.

#AlexanderWhitmore-Proposed

#Isabellas-3-Demands

#Was-Alexander-Sincere

#The-Incident-5-Years-Ago

These hashtags dominated the trending lists. Of course, topics like #Isabellas-Gown, #Phoenix, and #D.K also fought for attention high on the charts.

Even though Isabella had only received a relatively minor award, her presence and the scandals surrounding her completely overshadowed nearly every other attendee.

In a sterile hospital room, Seraphina Delacroix seethed, scrolling through the online frenzy from her sickbed.

"That conniving little opportunist, Arabella! She capitalized on my absence! That top model title would never have been hers if I were there!

"And that gown! Someone paid a fortune for it. How did that wretch Isabella get her hands on it? What did she have to do to wear it?

No.7

Fury contorted Seraphina's features as she viciously pummeled her pillow.

"Ms. Delacroix, the doctor stressed the importance of rest and calm for your recovery," her assistant ventured cautiously, trying to soothe her. "This anger isn't helping. The company's current crisis is the more pressing matter. Numerous artists are threatening to terminate their contracts. Arabella, in particular, has become insufferably arrogant since winning that award tonight. She's publicly slandering our company, calling us fraudulent and manipulative, claiming we forced her into unethical situations."

"Hmph! She owes her entire career to this company. Dreaming of leaving? She can rot first!" Seraphina snarled, her teeth gritted.

After a moment of fuming silence, she looked up, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Wait. Weren't there persistent rumors about Arabella and Director Hue?"

"Yes, they were substantiated. I personally witnessed them together on one occasion…" the assistant confirmed.