Chapter 372
Victoria remained silent, her expression unreadable.
Margaret Whitmore moved closer, her voice dripping with false concern. “Oh, Victoria…”
She let the words hang in the air for a moment.
“You’re carrying a child now. Your little scandal with Alexander is front page news. Everyone knows.”
She patted Victoria’s hand, a gesture that felt more like a warning than comfort.
“This wedding is the only solution. For you. For him. Endure this unpleasantness now. Behave. Do as you’re told. Then, after you’re married, you’ll be treated well. Provided you become a proper wife and mother, of course.”
The message was clear, wrapped in a veneer of maternal advice. ‘You are damaged goods. Be grateful we are allowing this marriage. Your only value now is in protecting our family’s reputation.’
It was a calculated insult.
Victoria’s fists clenched beneath the bedsheets. Her nails bit into her palms, drawing blood. The physical pain was nothing compared to the searing humiliation.
She had to endure it. There was no other choice.
She forced her voice into a soft, compliant tone. “Aunt Margaret, please don’t worry. I’ve left my modeling career behind. My only focus is being a good wife to Alexander. I will take care of myself and this baby. The family can handle all the arrangements. I trust your judgment completely.”
“Good. That’s very sensible.” Margaret stood, her smile tight and satisfied. “Since our families are so close, we’ll keep the wedding simple. No need for unnecessary fuss.”
She swept out of the room, leaving Victoria trembling with a rage so potent it threatened to choke her.
Simple?
She had dreamed of a spectacular wedding for years. As the world’s top supermodel, from the prestigious Montgomery family, marrying into the Whitmore dynasty… It should have been the event of the season.
Now they wanted it to be simple? Quiet? An embarrassment to be swept under the rug?
They thought she was worthless. They believed Alexander was settling for her.
She was Victoria Kensington! The heiress to the Montgomery fortune! The face that launched a thousand campaigns!
“Sis?”
The voice pulled her from her furious thoughts. Benjamin stood in the doorway, his young face creased with concern.
She quickly schooled her features into a mask of weary acceptance.
“Benjamin? What is it?”
“I heard what she said.” His hands were balled into fists at his sides. “It’s not right. You deserve better than a ‘simple’ wedding. I’ll go tell them!”
He turned to leave, fueled by righteous anger.
Victoria slid from the bed and grabbed his arm. “No! Benjamin, don’t. Please.”
She infused her voice with a heartbreaking mixture of shame and resignation. “This… this is what I deserve. After what I did… ruining Isabella’s moment… I’m lucky to be alive. I’m lucky they’re still allowing this marriage. I can’t ask for more.”
Benjamin froze. The memory of the live-streamed scandal flooded back. The undeniable proof of her scheming with Alexander against Isabella. His own sister, the architect of such public humiliation.
His anger faltered, replaced by confusion and unease. “You… you never really explained that to me,” he mumbled.
Explanation? What could she possibly say? The evidence was irrefutable.
Victoria’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “The past is too painful to revisit. Someday you’ll understand the difficult position I was in, but not now. Just know that I am your sister. I’ve always looked out for you, haven’t I? Since we were children. I’ve always wanted what’s best for you.”
She painted herself as a martyr, silently bearing a burden to protect him.
Benjamin remembered. She had always been his defender. She funded his gaming team when their parents scoffed. She cheered him on when no one else did. His expression softened.
Seeing his defenses crumble, Victoria gently took his hands. “I’ve never asked you for anything, Benjamin. Not once. But I need to ask you for a favor now. Will you help me?”
A favor? He looked at her, his loyalty warring with his doubt.