Chapter 273
Isabella Montgomery’s expression darkened as she stepped onto the ninth floor.
The lobby was already crowded with people blocking the balcony from Arabella Fontaine. Her manager and assistants were trying to calm her, but Arabella clutched a vase, weakly threatening, “Stay back! Don’t come any closer! I’ll do it… I swear I will!”
Blood dripped steadily from her wrist, forming a dark pool on the marble floor. Her team kept a helpless distance, but Isabella strode forward without hesitation.
Arabella stumbled backward, raising the vase. “I said don’t come near me!”
“Go ahead. Throw it at me,” Isabella challenged, her steps never faltering.
Arabella’s hands shook violently. “I’ll really do it—ah!”
Isabella moved like lightning, seizing her wrist and wrenching the vase away. In one fluid motion, she pinned Arabella onto the nearby sofa.
The assistants sprang into action, holding her down while the medical team rushed to stem the bleeding.
“Let me go! Why did you save me?” Arabella sobbed. “Why won’t you let me die?”
“So that scumbag can return to his perfect family while your name is dragged through the mud forever?” Isabella’s voice was icy as she stepped back, allowing the medics to work.
Arabella flinched. A bitter smile touched her lips. “What else is left for me? I deserve this… I deserve to die!” She closed her eyes, tears streaming uncontrollably.
Her manager, Penelope Sinclair, rushed to Isabella’s side. “Boss Montgomery, please help us. Arabella had no idea Harrison Winslow was married! She didn’t know about Genevieve Beaumont or their children! She was completely in the dark! She gave that man everything!”
Arabella wailed, her body trembling with each sob.
It was true. She’d been only eighteen, new to the industry, when Harrison swept her off her feet. He treated her like a princess, and she believed she’d found her fairy tale.
She followed his every direction, attended every event he arranged. Even when rival companies courted her with better offers, she never considered leaving. Her free time was spent knitting scarves for him, tailoring his suits by hand. They adopted a cat together. She gave him her innocence.
She dreamed of their wedding, even picking out names for their future children: Markus and Katie Winslow. Symbols of their love, their future.
Just days ago, she’d been thrilled about her contract with GoldenPhoenix, imagining the money she’d earn to buy Harrison a new car. Then the scandal broke—leaked photos of them in a hotel room.
Harrison had orchestrated it all. The man she loved had destroyed her. Eight years of her youth, her best years, were nothing but a lie.
Isabella frowned. “After all this time with Harrison, you must have something on him.”
“Harrison Winslow is a master manipulator. He never told anyone at SilverPeak he was married. No one knew. He never even used social media to message Arabella.”