Chapter 35
The internet erupted in a frenzy of adoration.
Comments flooded in, each more awestruck than the last.
“OMG! Isabella Montgomery is a goddess! That walk, those legs, her presence…utterly hypnotic! A supermodel reborn!”
“Other models have one good feature. She has them all. Her face, her legs, her aura…every inch of her radiates power. I’m obsessed.”
“Now I get her ‘sit back and watch’ comment. No wonder she took the finale from Victoria. Honestly, Victoria would’ve face-planted in those heels.”
“Agreed. Isabella owns the stage. Confidence is everything.”
“Didn’t Victoria Kensington trip and look pathetic? Isabella is my queen.”
Netizens crowned Isabella a hero. Even her former critics publicly apologized.
On Alexander Whitmore’s feed, the tone was starkly different.
“Wow. National Husband really has to eat shit on live stream? That’s gonna be disgusting.”
“You had a chance to perform too, right? Be a man and honor the bet. Stream it!”
“No way! Absolutely not! Isabella was just average to me.”
“Be civil. Admit when you’re wrong. She was stunning. Try to negotiate your way out of this.”
“Yeah, eating actual feces is impossible. Surely she’ll accept something else?”
In a luxurious restaurant, Alexander scowled at his phone. He never imagined Isabella would look so commanding, so devastatingly beautiful. His plan had spectacularly backfired.
He had issued the challenge publicly. As CEO of Whitmore Enterprises, backing out would destroy his credibility. But eating actual waste? The thought was unbearable.
Victoria sat beside him, seething with jealousy as she read the forums. That should have been her on that stage, captivating everyone. Isabella had ruined her reputation with that leaked video. Now she was a laughingstock, forced into hiding.
Worse, she saw the captivated look in Alexander’s eyes as he stared at Isabella’s photos. She couldn’t let that usurper steal her spotlight…or her man.
An idea formed. She lowered her head and began to sob softly. “Alexander, darling… I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. The 3D projection was my idea. I was brainstorming for my finale, and Isabella must have overheard me discussing it with my assistant. To use it against you like this…”
Alexander stared at her, shocked. “The projection was your idea?”
“It was. I spent weeks researching it, perfecting it for my show. You can ask my assistant if you don’t believe me.” Victoria shot a look at her assistant, Sophia, who was hovering nearby, and signaled her over.
Sophia hurried forward. “It’s true, Mr. Whitmore! Miss Kensington worked tirelessly on it. She stayed up for nights—”
“Sophia, don’t,” Victoria interrupted with a choked sob. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so careless, she never would have stolen it. Her victory today… it’s because of my work. It’s all my fault.” She cried silently, playing the victim perfectly.
Alexander immediately pulled her into an embrace. “Don’t cry. I don’t blame you. This is Isabella’s fault! I wondered how she could be so clever. She stole your idea! What a shameless, vile woman!”
“Alexander, maybe… maybe I should go to her. She’s my sister. If I beg her, she might let you out of the bet.” Victoria made a move to stand, feigning resolve.
He held her tighter. “Absolutely not. You are the heiress of the Kensington family. My future wife. You will not debase yourself before that woman. We will find another way. There has to be another way.”
“Of course there is,” a confident, angry voice cut in. “I have information that will destroy Isabella Montgomery.”
Victoria and Alexander looked up to see Sophia Kensington striding toward their table.
“Sophia? What are you talking about?” Victoria asked, feigning confusion.
“I had someone dig into Isabella’s past five years. What they found is… very interesting. Look.” Sophia sat down opposite them and placed her phone on the table.