Chapter 221
Victoria Kensington lay motionless in the ICU bed.
Her head was partially shaved from the scalp injury.
Nine stitches held the torn skin together.
The anesthetic had completely worn off now.
A throbbing agony pulsed through her skull.
She kept her eyes tightly shut against the pain.
Two nurses moved around her room with cold efficiency.
Their whispers cut through the sterile air.
“She brought this on herself.”
“A scalp wound? How convenient.”
“Most people hit their foreheads against walls.”
“Not our clever Miss Kensington.”
“She’d never risk her precious face.”
“Calculating witch.”
“Stealing her sister’s fiancé? Her sister’s company?”
“No shame at all.”
Victoria’s fists clenched beneath the thin hospital blanket.
How dare these insignificant nobodies judge her?
She was still a Kensington heiress.
She still mattered.
The door clicked open.
“Leave us,” ordered Eleanor Kensington.
The nurses exited without another word.
Eleanor and Richard Montgomery approached the bed.
They looked down at their motionless daughter.
Richard’s voice was heavy with disappointment.
“Your daughter has become unpredictable, Eleanor.”
“This is not my fault!” Eleanor protested. “I called her every day in that wretched village! I welcomed her home! She deceived her own mother!”
She let out a weary sigh.
“I never imagined she was capable of this.”
“Cancel everything,” Richard stated flatly. “All appointments. All events. No visitors. For the family’s reputation, she remains here until this blows over.”
Eleanor frowned. “The Celestial Gala committee called. She’s nominated for Best Supermodel—”
“A publicity stunt,” Richard interrupted sharply. “They’re using her for ratings. Even if she won, could she show her face? Cancel it. All of it. Our focus must be on Isabella now. The media is slaughtering us over the wedding.”
The public had turned fiercely protective of Isabella Montgomery.
The adopted daughter neglected by her own family.
Pictures circulated online.
Eleanor delivering soup to Victoria.
Eleanor ignoring Isabella completely.
“I admit I failed her,” Eleanor conceded quietly. “She was always so difficult, so defiant… but it looks terrible.”
“The past is irrelevant,” Richard dismissed. “Damage control is everything now. Our family’s future depends on Isabella’s goodwill. You will accompany her to events. You will be seen together. Use our resources to support her at the Celestial Gala.”
He glanced at the still form in the bed.
“As for Victoria… let her rest. A year, perhaps. Arrange for a psychiatrist. See if that helps.”
Beneath closed eyelids, Victoria seethed.
Their words were poison.
Criticizing her.
Praising that vile Isabella.
Isabella had stolen everything.
Their love.
Their loyalty.
Their respect.
Isabella had orchestrated it all!
She was the monster!
Not Victoria!
This could not stand.
She would not let Isabella win.
The moment the door closed behind her parents, Victoria forced her eyes open.
A grim determination settled in her heart.