Chapter 62
[Isabella and Victoria Kensington Collaborate on Cover Shoot: A Sibling Rivalry Showdown.]
The piece detailed every aspect of their professional face-off, complete with expert analysis of their respective strengths and weaknesses. Despite its objective and polished tone, fan wars erupted almost instantly after publication.
[So Isabella has money. Big deal. She’s still a rookie. How can she possibly compete with Victoria?!]
[What’s so special about Victoria? She didn’t even make the Chanel finale. Everyone knows new talent often outshines the old.]
[Pure luck. Isabella’s final walk was visually striking, but if you look closely, it was just her playing dress-up. How can she represent a powerhouse like Guci? Can she actually win this?]
[Exactly. The winner is determined by collection sales. Victoria has eighty million followers. Isabella has under eight. How is that even a competition?]
At the Blackwood Estate…
Nathaniel stood by the bed in the nursery. “Oliver Blackwood. Are you going to sleep or not?”
“No! I’m busy fighting these trolls. Mommy’s fanbase is too small. I’m using a hundred different accounts to defend her,” Oliver declared, rapidly switching between profiles on his tablet.
Nathaniel’s brow furrowed. “You’ve been doing this for hours?”
“Yes! No one bullies Mommy on my watch!” Oliver pouted, his small fingers flying across the screen.
Nathaniel reached over and gently took the tablet. “This isn’t the way to support Mommy,” he said firmly. “Be good and get some rest. I’ll take you to see her tomorrow.”
“We’re seeing her tomorrow? Really?” Oliver’s eyes lit up like constellations.
Nathaniel gave a single, confirming nod. “Yes.”
The next morning, Isabella first completed a jewelry campaign shoot for Chanel before heading straight to Guci Tower.
Guci Tower occupied the most prestigious block in Westchester’s financial district. Rumors of the day’s shoot had drawn a massive crowd of fans, all gathered under the blazing sun. On the left side of the building, a boisterous swarm of supporters waved signs for Victoria Kensington. On the right, a quiet group of less than a hundred people waited patiently.
Isabella, after all, was a recent sensation. Her ‘Diamond Boss’ moniker sounded intimidating, not endearing. While she had gained admirers, few were devoted enough to stand in the heat for her.
As Isabella pulled up on her motorcycle, a sleek pink sports car arrived from the opposite direction. Its door swung open and Victoria emerged, elegant in a long mesh gown embroidered with delicate lisianthus blossoms.
The crowd erupted.
“Victoria! Victoria! Victoria!”
“The most beautiful supermodel! I love you! Can I get an autograph?”
“Victoria, sweetie, please, a photo!”
She was instantly swarmed, a radiant white swan at the center of a fervent flock.
Isabella simply parked her bike and dismounted. Her small cluster of supporters kept a respectful distance. Her aura was formidable, after all. She stood alone near the entrance, looking every bit the industry outsider.
“A nobody trying to compete with our Victoria? She’s just riding on her coattails.”
“I know, right? Has she even looked in a mirror? The audacity to shoot for Guci. Does she know how irrelevant she is?”
The jeers from the crowd were loud and clear, aimed at her solitary figure.