Chapter 116
What the actual hell? Emily was seething, her fingers twitching with the urge to claw Victoria's perfect face right then and there.
That woman was nothing but a mistress's daughter—and now a mistress herself! What gave her the right to act so high and mighty? Miss Kensington? Please. She was trash wrapped in designer labels.
Isabella calmly refilled her glass. "Miss Kensington?"
Victoria was exactly like what Dominic's friend Simon had described—a vapid socialite who somehow had every spoiled heir wrapped around her finger.
Now they all called her "Miss Kensington" like she was some untouchable goddess.
Emily scoffed. "Fine, let those idiots worship her. But Alexander? And Dominic?"
She caught herself too late, realizing how insensitive that sounded. "Wait, Bella, I didn’t mean—"
Isabella shook her head. "It’s fine."
Since childhood, Reginald, Beatrice, even her own grandmother Eleanor had always favored Victoria. Then two years ago, Alexander fell for her at first sight, and even Sophia started calling her "Mom."
She’d never once confessed how that made her feel. Never shed a single tear over it.
If she’d wanted to break down, any one of those betrayals would’ve been enough to wreck her. But she’d survived.
Compared to that, Dominic and his friends meant nothing. Hearing their conversation earlier hadn’t even stung.
Emily hesitated, then pulled her into a tight hug. "Bella..."
Isabella smiled. "It’s late. Let’s go home."
"Okay! And about your grandma’s birthday gift—we’ll find something perfect next time. I refuse to believe this city doesn’t have one decent present!"
"Alright."
She squeezed Emily’s hand, and they left together.
As they stepped into the parking lot, they nearly collided with Alexander and Victoria, who were also heading out.
Alexander glanced their way, but Isabella pretended not to notice, sliding into the driver’s seat without a word.
Emily shot them a glare before slamming the passenger door shut.
The car peeled away.
Victoria turned to Alexander.
"Let’s go," he said flatly.
She smiled sweetly. "Of course."
Her gaze flickered toward the retreating taillights, her smile deepening.
After dropping Emily off, Isabella was about to leave when Sophia called.
"Mom, when are you coming home?"
She started the engine. "Not tonight. Go to sleep. I’ll visit soon."
"Oh... okay."
Sophia’s tone was unmistakably bored.
Lately, she’d been glued to Victoria’s side.
But with Victoria and Alexander at the auction tonight, she had no one to entertain her. So now, suddenly, she remembered Isabella.
"Goodnight," Isabella said.
"Mmm, night, Mom."
The next two days were a blur of meetings and deadlines. She’d meant to shop for her grandmother’s gift but never found the time.
On the third afternoon, Nathaniel treated the team to lunch as a reward for their hard work.
On her way back from the restroom, Isabella froze.
Down the hall, Victoria exited a private dining room with seven or eight others, including Reginald, Beatrice, and a striking older woman—Victoria’s mother, Eleanor Kensington.
Victoria was arm-in-arm with an elegant elderly lady.
Isabella looked away. "The Kensingtons."
Nathaniel hesitated. "That older woman... is she—"
"Eleanor Kensington. She’s no one to me now."
He pulled her into a quick hug. "Ready to go back?"
"Yeah."
She’d legally changed her surname years ago. The Kensingtons were strangers.
But one thing did bother her.
Rumors had swirled that Victoria’s uncle’s family—the Shaws—were buying property in Salzburg, planning to relocate.
She’d suspected the Kensingtons would follow. She just hadn’t cared enough to track their movements.
But seeing them all here confirmed it. They were moving in.
That evening, Isabella left work early to meet Emily for shopping. An hour later, they still hadn’t found anything.
While Emily tried on dresses, Isabella’s phone rang.
Sophia. "Mom, when are you coming home?"
"What’s wrong?"
"Dad’s away, and I’m bored!"
Normally, Sophia would’ve run to Victoria. But with tomorrow being the weekend and Victoria undoubtedly busy with Eleanor’s arrival, the girl had nowhere else to turn.
"Stay put. I’ll be back tomorrow."
"Promise? Morning?"
"Promise."
By nightfall, they still hadn’t found a gift.
Her grandmother’s birthday was days away. She considered settling for something mediocre but couldn’t bring herself to.
The next morning, Isabella returned to Alexander’s villa.
While Sophia ate breakfast, she remembered something upstairs.
The moment she entered the master bedroom, two ornate velvet boxes sat gleaming on her vanity.