Chapter 971
No.1
"Exactly!" Penelope chimed in angrily. "She can't just tear this family apart because she's jealous! She's adopted! And yet she holds twenty-five percent of the company shares! How dare she act this way!"
Gregory shook his head with a dramatic sigh. "What a waste, what a shame. If it weren't for Isabella, Victoria would still be the top supermodel. She used to give us lavish gifts every month! Now we have nothing! It's disgraceful!"
"Our family is a laughingstock now," he continued. "We're humiliated everywhere we go. An adopted daughter like her never should have been allowed into this family!"
The room erupted in agreement, each voice layering on another complaint.
Richard's expression was cold, his voice cutting through the noise. "We need to reclaim her shares. Immediately. It doesn't matter who holds them—you or Father. They cannot remain in her hands."
Theodore remained silent, his face stern, brows deeply furrowed.
He didn't fully believe Victoria's story.
But she had encouraged them to call Isabella, seemingly without fear.
And she was desperately trying to win back their favor.
No.2
It didn't seem like she was lying.
Had Isabella truly done all this?
Had she sought revenge without any regard for the family's honor?
It appeared he would have to speak with her directly.
"Let's eat," Theodore finally said, rising slowly. "I will handle this."
He leaned heavily on his walker as he left the dining room.
Victoria watched him go, a spark of triumph in her eyes.
She might be leaving soon, but she would make sure Isabella's return was hell.
She would ensure Isabella was despised by everyone.
No.3
Once Theodore returned to his study, he took out his phone and dialed Isabella's number.
The same automated message greeted him.
"The number you have dialed is not in service."
His expression darkened.
Was she really with another man?
Was that why she refused to come home?
Who was he? Nathaniel Blackwood?
Theodore recalled how Nathaniel had publicly supported Isabella.
But would the prestigious Blackwood family ever accept someone like her?
No.4
Impossible!
His lawyer approached quietly. "Mr. Montgomery, do you still wish to transfer all your assets to Isabella?"
Theodore had made that decision days ago.
Victoria had taken his shares.
Benjamin was useless.
He feared all his property would eventually fall into Victoria's hands.
He worried Isabella would be bullied and left with nothing.
He wanted her to have something to rely on.
Something that would ensure her security and independence.
No.5
Theodore Montgomery never expected such complications. Transferring his assets to Isabella would spark family-wide opposition. He dismissed the idea with a weary wave. "Not now."
At Rosewood Manor.
Isabella plugged in her silenced phone while preparing for her Westhaven flight. She cradled Oliver, reading until his eyelids grew heavy. By eleven, the child slept peacefully in his bed. "I have to go out," she whispered to Nathaniel. "Watch Christopher for me."
He glanced up from his documents. "At this hour?"
She gave a firm nod. "Benjamin's in serious trouble. This requires my personal intervention."
"I could arrange—"
"Your men can't handle this situation," she interrupted. "It demands specific expertise. Stay with our son."
Isabella retrieved her tactical gear from the dressing room. Nathaniel didn't argue when she resolved like this. Yet after her departure, he immediately contacted Dominic. "Deploy a hundred men to shadow her."
"Yes, sir!"
No.6
Driving her compact car from the estate, Isabella noticed multiple missed calls from Theodore. She tried calling back but received no answer. Unusual behavior for her grandfather—he never called repeatedly without urgency.
Suspicion gnawed at her. She executed a sharp U-turn toward Montgomery Manor while contacting Maxwell. "Delay the flight one hour. I'm checking on my grandfather first."
The manor's gates stood locked at eleven, all lights extinguished. Only the entrance lamp cast a feeble glow across the property. Isabella rang the bell repeatedly until a guard appeared.
"Miss Montgomery? You've returned?"
"I need to see my grandfather." She moved to enter but found her path blocked.
"Apologies, but the Senior retired quite distressed tonight. I must inform Sir and Madam before granting entry."
Isabella's eyes narrowed. Since when did she require permission to enter her own home?
Even during her most unpopular years, no one had barred her from the family estate. This was unprecedented.
"What happened today?" Her voice turned icy and sharp.
No.7
"Unclear, Miss. Evening orders stated you couldn't pass this gate without authorization. Please understand I'm following instructions."
The adjacent guard was already calling Richard. The phone soon transferred to Isabella. She accepted it with a frosty expression, curious what explanation her uncle would offer.
Isabella took the phone, her expression hardening instantly. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” Richard’s voice was a low, furious growl. “How dare you use that tone with me? Have you finally decided to grace us with your presence after all your gallivanting? Do you think Montgomery Manor is some cheap motel you can check into whenever it suits you?”
His anger escalated with every word. “Letting your mother bring you home was the biggest mistake of my life!” he spat. “You destroyed your own reputation five years ago, and now you’re trying to drag your sister down with you? You’ve shamed the Montgomery name! I should have ended you the day you arrived. It would have saved us all this disgrace!”
Isabella was blindsided by the tirade. Before she could form a response, Eleanor snatched the phone.
“Whatever Victoria did to you, even if she pushed you down those stairs, she is still your sister!” Eleanor’s voice was sharp, laced with venom. “That bastard child never should have existed! How can you be so vindictive? Holding a grudge for five years and now trying to ruin our family’s standing? You are utterly ungrateful!”
Isabella’s face went cold. So they knew. Victoria had gotten to them first, spinning her web of lies.
“You need to take a long, hard look at yourself, Isabella,” Eleanor continued, her words like shards of glass. “Stop spreading your legs for every stranger you meet. You’re an embarrassment. If you ever want to set foot in this house again, you will apologize to your sister. Properly. Then, and only then, might you be allowed to move your things back in. But if you think you can treat this estate like your personal flophouse, you can forget it. I wish we’d never taken you in. To me, you’re already dead!”