Chapter 406
One hour remained until the ceremony.
The atmosphere buzzed with frantic energy.
Everyone moved with purpose, consumed by their duties.
Downstairs, the Montgomerys and Whitmores mingled with arriving guests.
Their laughter echoed through the grand lobby of The Ritz-Carlton.
Upstairs, the final preparations were underway.
Makeup artists hovered, ready for last-minute adjustments.
Victoria Kensington sat perfectly still before the vanity.
Her reflection showed a vision of bridal perfection.
Penelope Sinclair adjusted a stray curl.
"Madam, you must be so happy," she gushed. "You look absolutely stunning today."
A faint smile touched Victoria's lips.
"Thank you, Penelope."
Her eyes remained fixed on her own image.
She knew she rivaled any woman in beauty, even Isabella Montgomery.
Isabella's appeal was sharp, edged with arrogance.
Hers was softer, more refined.
Elegance radiated from within her, gentle and pure.
She embodied innocence, like a delicate jasmine blooming in silence.
Men adored such qualities.
They fell helplessly for this type of woman.
Today, she would captivate everyone.
A sudden knock interrupted her thoughts.
The sound was firm, deliberate.
Penelope moved warily to the door.
A man stood in the hallway, dressed in simple black attire.
His clothes were plain, unremarkable.
"Who are you?" Penelope asked, blocking his view.
The man's gaze shifted past her, landing directly on Victoria.
"I need to speak with Victoria," he stated. "Isadora Vasquez sent me."
Victoria's composure faltered.
Isadora? Her agent was imprisoned.
Why would she send this man?
Her eyes scanned him, taking in his age, his appearance.
A cold dread washed over her.
She knew, instinctively.
"Leave us, Penelope," Victoria commanded, her voice tight. "Wait outside. Allow no one to enter."
"Yes, Madam." Penelope stepped aside, allowing the man entry before exiting.
The door clicked shut.
Silence filled the luxurious room.
Victoria studied the stranger, her expression icy.
"Explain yourself," she demanded. "Who are you? Why are you here?"
The man's eyes held a strange mix of sorrow and intensity.
"Twenty-three years," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You've grown into a beautiful woman."
Her blood ran cold.
What was he implying?
Her hands trembled slightly.
A horrible suspicion took root.
Could this be... him?
"I met with Isadora," he continued, his gaze never leaving her. "She told me everything. I failed your mother. I... I failed you."
"Stop!" Victoria's voice cracked with fury. "I don't want to hear it! Your apologies are worthless!"
She glared at him, her eyes burning with contempt.
"Mother is dead! I survived by hiding in fear among the Montgomerys! Why now? Why today? Do you want to ruin me?"
Tears of anger welled in her eyes.
"Should I announce to everyone that I'm not a true Montgomery? That my father is... a man like you?"
Her words dripped with venom.
He wore cheap, simple fabrics.
Nothing of value adorned him.
If the Whitmores discovered her connection to this man...
Would Alexander still go through with the wedding?
If society learned she wasn't a Montgomery heiress...
If they knew she was just an ordinary man's daughter...
Her modeling career was already ashes.
This identity was all she had left.
She couldn't lose it.
"Victoria, please, let me explain—" he began, his voice pleading.
"No! Get out! Leave immediately!" she interrupted, her tone sharp and final. "I never want to see you again! No one can know!"
A sudden thought struck her.
She stood abruptly, moving toward a nearby drawer.