Chapter 50
[Oh god, my princess is injured! That must have been excruciating.]
[Isabella looks completely drained! Sophia must have attacked her out of pure spite for being exposed! How vile!]
[Counting down to the press conference! Let’s see how Isabella tries to talk her way out once everything’s revealed.]
Twitter flooded with reactions like these while reporters rushed to get statements from Victoria and Sophia.
“I won’t back down, no matter how violently Isabella retaliates,” Sophia announced to the cameras, her voice trembling with fake bravery. “The press conference will proceed. The world will know the truth.”
Nearby, Victoria winced dramatically as she nursed a bandaged wrist. “I don’t want to say much… It’s alright if she takes her anger out on me. I only wish to guide her back to the right path. Please, everyone, help me persuade her to stop this?” Her performance, complete with trembling lips and glossy eyes, swayed the public effortlessly.
The audience buzzed with anticipation, eager for the conference to start. They couldn’t wait to see Isabella publicly shamed and expelled from the modeling world for good.
Before long, the clock struck three.
The lobby of The Ritz-Carlton swarmed with paparazzi and influencers broadcasting live, their viewers hooked and waiting.
Amid the chaos, Sophia ascended the platform. She wore a striking crimson satin gown, radiating false confidence.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she began, gripping the microphone. “I know you’re all eager for answers, so I’ll cut straight to it.”
“Many of you may feel a single photo isn’t enough to prove Isabella is the other woman. That’s why I’ve arranged for a very special guest to join us today—Diamond Prince Harrison Winslow himself. He will clarify everything personally.” She gestured grandly toward the backstage area.
A team of broad-shouldered bodyguards cleared a path as Harrison emerged. Dressed in a tailored black suit adorned with obsidian diamond buttons, he moved with an air of untouchable elegance. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, silencing the crowd momentarily.
The room erupted.
“It’s really him! Harrison Winslow! The CEO of Prestige Diamonds! He actually showed up!”
“Sophia pulled off a miracle! He hasn’t spoken a word since the scandal broke!”
“Isabella is finished. There’s no way she recovers from this.”
“Your Highness, please explain what happened! Why betray Princess Arabella? Weren’t you devoted to her?”
Reporters shoved microphones toward him while online comment sections exploded.
[Harrison is unreal. How could he cheat?]
[That home-wrecker Isabella deserves everything coming to her.]
The world watched, equal parts mesmerized and outraged, all directed at Isabella.
Meanwhile, the woman at the center of the storm lounged on her velvet sofa, carefully applying a thermal-reactive nail polish that shifted from bright red to deep blood crimson at the tips.
Julian Hawthorne eyed the television nervously. “It’s getting intense. You’re really not watching?”
“Why would I? This color is far more interesting,” Isabella replied without looking up, blowing gently on her nails.
He sighed. It wasn’t like the woman being torn apart online was actually her. Why was he so stressed?
Back at the hotel, the conference hit its peak.
Sophia handed the microphone to Harrison, beaming. “Your Highness, the truth, please. We’re all here for justice.”
Harrison took the mic, his expression unreadable. “This situation is… complicated. Instead of explaining, I’d like to show you all something.” He signaled toward the AV team.
Sophia’s heart raced with triumph. This was their agreement—he would reveal receipts of Isabella’s lavish spending, intimate photos, everything to paint her as a greedy, status-obsessed seductress. Once the evidence dropped, Isabella’s reputation would never recover.