Chapter 303

Isabella Sinclair could practically read Sophia Whitmore's thoughts.

She opened her mouth to say she was fine when Beatrice Kensington stormed in.

The older woman took one look at Sophia and snapped, "There you are! Do you know how long I've been searching? You're not answering your phone—"

Her tirade cut off abruptly when she spotted Isabella's back. Beatrice's expression instantly frosted over.

A sales associate approached Isabella just then. "Ms. Sinclair, all your selections have been packaged. Here's your receipt totaling 5,897,640 dors."

Isabella nodded and accepted the slip. They stood in The Grandeur's private shopping suite where her purchases were meticulously arranged—over thirty designer bags lined up like soldiers.

After verifying the amount, Isabella handed over her black card without hesitation.

Both Beatrice and Sophia gaped. Nearly six million on clothing? In one afternoon?

Beatrice recovered first, her lips curling. Clearly this was just an act—a desperate attempt to appear wealthy when everyone knew the Sinclair family was struggling. Without Alexander Whitmore's support, even Victoria Kensington couldn't spend that recklessly.

But Sophia worried her lip. Rumors said the Sinclair enterprises were floundering. How could Isabella drop six million so casually?

Beatrice scoffed but held her tongue. Turning to Sophia, she said, "Uncle Reginald's finished cooking. Are you planning to keep everyone waiting? Move it."

Sophia threw Isabella an apologetic glance before scurrying after Beatrice.

She'd heard the Kensington mansion—a 600 million dor estate—was Alexander's gift to Eleanor Kensington. That didn't include the priceless furnishings.

Beatrice had bragged the living room vase alone cost tens of millions, another of Alexander's lavish gifts to Victoria.

The entire home dripped with obscene luxury. Though raised in privilege, Sophia found herself tiptoeing, terrified of brushing against some irreplaceable artifact.

Genevieve Kensington lounged on a silk sofa, cracking nuts. She laughed at Sophia's wide-eyed caution.

Victoria descended the staircase like royalty. "Relax," she drawled. "They're just decorations. If something breaks, we'll replace it." Her tone implied such expenses were mere pocket change.

Sophia was speechless. When had Victoria become this extravagant?

Genevieve smirked. "Alexander has more money than sense when it comes to spoiling Victoria. She could smash this place daily and he'd happily fund the destruction if it amused her."

The words settled like lead in Sophia's stomach. She'd heard rumors of Alexander's generosity toward Victoria—funding her family's rise, gifting shares, opening doors. But witnessing it firsthand was different.

What stung most was knowing how differently he treated Isabella. When the Sinclair businesses faltered, Alexander refused to lift a finger.

Yet for Victoria? No expense was too great.