Their Queen's Back - Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Skye lazily folded her arms across her chest, her cool, detached gaze glinting with amusement.
"Seems Ms. Lin still didn't get what I just said. I can have you get the hell out anytime I want. This is my house—I'll stay wherever I damn well please. Got it?"
Linda's face turned livid, speechless with rage. "You—!"
Skye shoved her aside. "Stepmother?" she sneered.
Skye thought coldly, "Let's see if she can handle what's coming to her."
Skye stared at the forcibly redecorated room before her—every trace of her belongings had vanished.
"Where are my things?" Skye demanded, abruptly grabbing Linda's arm.
Seeing Skye's anger, Linda smirked triumphantly.
Linda pursed her lips and, with a smug smile, spat out, "Burned—" She barely finished before a sharp slap cracked across her face.
Before Linda could finish, Skye's palm connected sharply with her cheek in a resounding slap.
With a thud, Linda crashed to the floor.
Hearing the commotion, Richard rushed over in a panic.
Seeing Linda sprawled on the floor, Richard shouted, "Skye! What the hell are you doing?! She's your stepmother—my wife! Your mother's been gone for years—am I not allowed to remarry?"
As soon as Sophia came out, Skye put on an innocent face and said, "Dad, you've got me all wrong. When did I ever lay a finger on her? I just walked over to ask her a question, and then she threw herself on the floor and even slapped herself—all just to frame me."
Linda trembled with rage at Skye's blatant lies. Pointing a shaking finger, she shrieked, "You lying bitch! Bitch! Honey, look at my face—it was her! She hit me!"
Sophia spoke up, "I saw it too! She slapped herself and tried to pin it on my sister!"
Linda glared menacingly at the two of them, seething with rage. "You two—!"
Richard remained skeptical, torn between believing either side.
Skye then demanded, her voice icy, "Where are my things?"
Richard replied offhandedly, "They're in the storage room." At his words, a dangerous chill flashed across Skye's eyes.
Upon seeing her cold expression, Richard felt a chill run down his spine and unconsciously softened his voice.
"I... I thought you'd already... After all, the room was just going to waste, so I let your sister move in. Skye, there are plenty of rooms in the house—just pick any other one you like."
Skye recalled the days when her mom was still around—her mom would go out to work, while her dad stayed home, cooking and playing with them.
He would handcraft delicate leaf art pieces for me, just because I said I liked autumn leaves.
But now... all he says is, "Just pick any room."
No wonder my sisters have grown so cold.
Skye thought bitterly, "How everything has changed."
Skye sneered sarcastically and asked, "Dad, have you forgotten? You yourself told me—I'm your firstborn, and this room was personally designed by you. You said that in this lifetime, there would never be another occupant besides me."
At these words, Richard's heart lurched—a long-buried memory resurfaced, leaving him momentarily dazed.
"Back then... he truly loved them—his daughters."
"But after Margaret died, people started calling me a kept man," Richard thought bitterly. "I'm still a man—I have my pride, my dignity."
"But all anyone ever saw was Margaret," Richard thought bitterly. "The whole world just mocked and ridiculed me."
They said he was nothing but a kept man.
He thought bitterly, "They said I wasn't even a real man."
He'd long since tried to put all that behind him.
"Enough!" Richard snapped. "It's just one room. Why are you making such a big deal?"
Skye forced a sardonic smile, the glistening tears in her eyes vanishing as quickly as they'd appeared.
"Fine! Men, smash everything to pieces!"
At Skye's barked order, her bodyguards surged into the room, swinging sledgehammers. They began smashing through walls, demolishing furniture, and shattering beds and windows in a frenzy.
"Ah!" Linda shrieked.
"Skye! Have you lost your damn mind?!" Richard roared.
Linda snapped back to reality and rushed in, shouting, "Stop! Stop this instant! Don't you dare touch my daughter's stuff—get out of here, all of you!"
Back then, she immediately saw that the room was spacious, full of light, and had great energy—so without hesitation, she had her daughter move in.
Those damn brats—Sophia and the others—fought tooth and nail to stop anyone from taking over the room, but in the end, they just couldn't win against real authority.
She really put them through the wringer.
She forced them to kneel as punishment and locked them in a dark closet.
She deprived them of food and water until they were finally subdued.
But now...
She had certainly heard of Skye's reputation—she was known as the top heiress of the Capital Elite Circle.
True to her reputation as an heiress, she was the complete package—brilliant, breathtakingly beautiful, and radiating effortless grace.
True to her name, her personality was wild and untamed—proud and aloof, elegantly detached.
At just eighteen, she was the unattainable moon every elite man in high society longed for—the ethereal goddess they all worshipped from afar.
"I'm just redecorating my room—after all, some filthy things once lived here, and that really pisses me off," Skye said coldly. "Keep smashing it to pieces. If anyone tries to stop you, don't bother being polite—just give them a good hammering to the head."
"You—you—you ungrateful girl!"
At Skye's command, the bodyguards turned and raised their hammers menacingly toward Linda, who was still trying to block their way.
Linda went pale as a sheet, trembling with fear as she staggered backward. With one last terrified glance, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed to the floor, completely unconscious.
Richard quickly led everyone back to their rooms.
Skye gently squeezed her little sister's chubby cheeks. "Alright, time for bed—let's head back to our room."
"Yay, sis!" Sophia cheered.