Chapter 41
Her slender finger lifted his chin with deliberate grace.
“Nathaniel,” she murmured, her voice a low challenge. “Do I strike you as the type to trade my body for solutions?”
His brow furrowed. Trading her body? Marriage to him was the ultimate fantasy for countless women. How could she frame it as some sordid transaction? Her fingertip felt cool against his skin, carrying a faint, intoxicating scent.
A slow smile touched his lips. “If Miss Montgomery insists on conducting business that way first,” he countered, “I wouldn’t object.” His large hand closed over hers, small and delicate in his grasp. A jolt, sharp and electric, shot through them both, freezing them in place.
Isabella recovered first, snatching her hand back. “In your dreams,” she scoffed, brushing off her fingers. “A body like mine is far beyond your means.” She turned from the table, her posture radiating unyielding pride as she walked away.
Nathaniel’s frown deepened, but he let the matter drop.
She retreated to Oliver’s room; the boy would be sleeping in her bed tonight.
Sleep, however, eluded her. Lying in the dark, she switched her phone to silent and opened Twitter. A torrent of criticism flooded her screen. Her response was swift and cutting.
[Is this truly the best you can manage? It’s not even worthy of being my garnish.]
She attached the photo of the vibrant, perfectly cooked prawns from earlier.
Her fans had been waiting. They expected her to be hiding, weeping in some corner. Instead, she was living her life, even cooking a luxurious meal. The audacity! The sheer nerve of the woman!
Her inner circle saw the post immediately.
Maxwell and his team rallied in the comments.
[Boss Montgomery’s courage is unmatched!]
[Fools should verify their facts before spewing nonsense.]
[Boss, I stand with you! Can I get priority on the next batch?]
Strange replies peppered the comments, but they were quickly buried under the avalanche of new messages every minute.
Sophia nearly hurled her phone across the room. She had been certain Isabella was drowning in shame. Yet here she was, bold and unbroken. That infuriating spirit remained intact. Unacceptable. She needed a plan to crush her completely, utterly.
Her phone rang. “Sophia! Incredible news!” Lillian’s excited voice burst through. “A confidential source confirms Diamond Prince arrived in Westchester today. He’s staying at The Ritz-Carlton. Presidential Suite, room 8801.”
“Are you certain?” Sophia demanded, skepticism warring with hope.
“One hundred percent. The source is impeccable. I verified it myself.”
“Perfect. Arrange everything. Tonight.”
If she could meet Diamond Prince tonight, convince him to pin everything on Isabella, claim it was all her seduction… then Isabella would be finished. Absolutely ruined.
The thought sent a thrill through her. She selected a new dress and rushed to The Ritz-Carlton.
At The Ritz-Carlton, Presidential Suite 8801…
A strikingly handsome man, every bit the prince, watched the evening news. His doorbell chimed.
A soft, feminine voice filtered through the door. “Good evening, Sir. Your room service has arrived.”