Chapter 269

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."

"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.

(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.

A hostile crowd gathered below, hurling vicious insults.

"Just jump, you shameless bitch!"

"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.