Chapter 36
Alexander and Victoria stared at Isabella’s phone screen.
A photo of Isabella Montgomery standing beside a man in royal regalia filled the display.
The man was handing her a massive, glittering diamond.
They looked intimate. Happy.
Alexander’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t that Harrison Winslow? The Diamond Prince of South Africa?”
“Exactly,” Sophia confirmed, a vicious smirk twisting her lips. “That’s her sugar daddy. The reason she’s rolling in cash. Imagine this photo going viral. Her glorious comeback? Ruined. Alexander’s live-stream promise? Forgotten. She’ll be finished.”
Victoria masked her thrill behind a facade of concern. “But… Prince Harrison is married. His wedding to Princess Arabella was a global spectacle. They’re a beloved couple. If this gets out, Isabella will be branded a home-wrecker. Public opinion will destroy her.”
“So what?” Sophia snapped. “After everything she’s done to you? She deserves it. She’s living lavishly on another woman’s husband’s money. She should be exposed. She should feel the shame.”
Alexander’s expression turned to ice. “So this is her transformation. Five years abroad, and she becomes a mistress. If she chooses this path, she must face the consequences.”
Victoria gave a reluctant, almost pained nod. “I suppose… it must be done. For her own good. Maybe the media scrutiny will make her see reason. Make her stop hurting their family.”
That night, the headline exploded across the internet.
[ISABELLA MONTGOMERY SEDUCES SOUTH AFRICA’S DIAMOND PRINCE!]
Sophia’s post accompanied the viral story.
“We were overjoyed at Isabella’s return to the Montgomery family. But her sudden, immense wealth was shocking. The black-green meteorite. The properties. The fleet of hypercars. Our family provided a modest allowance. Where did this fortune truly come from?”
“My contacts in South Africa uncovered the truth. Isabella is a home-wrecker. Not just any, but the mistress of Diamond Prince Harrison Winslow! She chose money over morals, destroying a beautiful marriage.”
“I despise women like her. Popularity? Fans? I don’t care about the backlash. Justice must be served!”
The post included damning photos. Isabella with the meteorite. Isabella on the Hypersport. Isabella surrounded by bodyguards. A life of obscene luxury.
And finally, the photo with Prince Harrison.
The comments section erupted.
“OMG! Her money makes sense now! Prince Harrison’s mistress!”
“She didn’t just sleep with anyone. She bagged a prince. No wonder she’s so arrogant.”
“Prince Harrison and Princess Arabella’s wedding was legendary! 99 wedding cars! They were perfect! How could she ruin that?”
“Disgusting! Destroying a family for money! Morally bankrupt!”
“No wonder she threw shoes on set! Her only talent is seducing married men! What a slut!”
“Home-wrecker! Shameless! I stand with Sophia! Boycott this gold-digging whore!”
The public forgot Alexander’s promised live-stream. The scandal was all-consuming.
Isabella’s new fans, fickle from a single show, abandoned her instantly.
Isabella was at home, a silk mask smoothing her skin, when her phone began buzzing incessantly.
It wouldn’t stop.
She reached for it, answering to the sound of Maxwell Carter’s frantic, panicked breathing.