Their Queen's Back - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Matthew stared at Sophia with a condescending air, laying down his demands as if they were the most natural thing in the world.
"I don't have many demands," Matthew said coldly. "Just one: if you want to be my wife, Sophia, you must accept Lily's presence. She's my savior and needs your blood every month. So you'll have to come with me to the hospital for regular blood donations."
Linda beamed with exaggerated delight and said, "Matthew is such a loyal and righteous young man—truly a rare find! Sophia dear, being able to marry someone like him is a blessing you must have prayed for in your past life!"
Linda seethed inwardly, "If it weren't for Matthew setting his sights on Sophia, I'd never let her marry into the Quinns and live as their pampered princess!"
Richard chimed in, backing Matthew up. "Matthew's right. Lily saved his life, so she's your benefactor too. It's just a little blood every month—you're not going to die from it. Stop making such a big deal out of nothing."
Sophia felt as if her heart had been cast into an abyss of despair, over and over again.
All that remained was darkness and cold—there wasn't a single ray of light to be found.
She had long grown accustomed to the sharpest knives wielded by her own family.
With each new wound, the pain dulled her senses, leaving her battered and bruised inside.
Yet whenever those knives stabbed at her heart again, she still couldn't help but bleed all over again—the agony as raw and unbearable as ever.
Sophia thought bitterly, "Maybe deep down, I still yearn for the kind and doting father I once had. But since my sister left, everything has changed over these ten years. The man before me is nothing like the gentle father I remember."
Sophia thought bitterly, "When others want to drain his daughter's blood, all he says is, 'It won't kill you. Stop making a fuss.' When they treat me like a slave, making outrageous demands and not even seeing me as human, he just fawns over them with a grin."
Sophia was both pitiful and pathetic.
Not anymore. She would no longer hope for her father to change, because the most important person in her life had returned—her sister, Skye.
No one could ever surpass Skye's place in her heart.
Not even if her mother came back.
She and her sisters had all been raised by Skye since they were little; in her heart, only Skye truly mattered.
"Then I guess I'm just not 'blessed' enough for this honor!" Sophia spat. "Matthew, I told you last night—I'm calling off the engagement. I won't marry you. And as for you, Mrs. Quinn, take your precious rules and shove them! Who the hell would want to marry into your family anyway?"
Sophia glared at the old Quinn and Richard as she spoke.
"What the hell does Matthew's savior have to do with me? Why should I be the one to donate blood for her? Who gave you the right to demand that from me? If you're so capable, why don't you go donate your own damn blood?"
She finally spat out all the words she'd been choking back in one furious outburst.
The Quinns were seeing red with fury.
As prominent figures in upper-class circles, they had never been publicly defied by a junior before.
"That Hughes girl has no manners whatsoever! No breeding at all!" one of them spat, voice dripping with contempt.
Matthew's face darkened with rage. He snarled, "Sophia, who the hell do you think you are, talking to us like that? I've told you—your little hard-to-get tricks don't work on me. Keep this up, and I'll call off the engagement right here and now."
Wilma gnashed her teeth and pointed at Sophia. "You don't know your place, you ungrateful, vulgar, ill-bred wretch! My son only pities you enough to marry you. You're nothing—do you really think you're worthy of the Quinns? Marrying into this family is a blessing you could never hope for in a hundred lifetimes, yet you dare show no gratitude!"
As Richard raised his hand to strike Sophia, Skye's slender hand shot out and clamped down on his wrist.
In the next instant, her long leg swept out.
With a single kick, she sent Richard crashing into the table, shattering every glass in a cascade of shards.
The sudden crash drew all eyes in the room.
*Slap!* A sharp crack echoed as Skye's palm connected with Matthew's face, leaving an angry red handprint blooming across his cheek.
Skye shielded Sophia behind her and sneered, "What kind of mutt dares to bark in front of me? Who the hell do you think you are, threatening my sister? The Quinns are nothing but a third-rate family—how dare you put on airs in front of me?"
Skye cut a formidable figure in her sleek black dress and heels, her dominating presence filling the room.
Linda met those eyes and instantly froze, her own widening in shock as her whole body trembled uncontrollably.
"She... she... could it be...?"
Richard clambered up unsteadily, roaring, "Who—who the hell dared to kick me? Show yourself now and I'll make you regret it!"
When Richard finally saw the face beside Sophia clearly, his legs gave out like melted wax and he crumpled to his knees.
His lips trembling, he choked out the name, "Margaret!"
But as soon as the name left his lips, he thought, "No, that's impossible. Margaret White is dead. I buried her with my own hands."
No... that can't be!
She's far too young.
She... could it be...
The answer was already forming in his mind, but he didn't dare say it out loud.
Linda's finger trembled as she pointed at her, gasping in disbelief, "You... you're—Skye!"
That face... it looked so much like Margaret's.
For a moment, Linda almost thought that woman had come back from the dead.
The very woman who made her feel so inferior from head to toe that she couldn't even meet her eyes.
But the woman before them was even more stunningly beautiful and alluring than Margaret had been—a perfect fusion of Richard and Margaret's genes.
Sophia and her sisters were already impossibly beautiful, each with looks that could rival a superstar's. Yet no one expected someone even more breathtaking to exist.
And yet, the resemblance to that woman was simply uncanny.
Just one look from her sent a chill down Linda's spine.
Richard finally snapped out of his daze and exclaimed, "Skye! Skye! It's really you! You're back! You're alive!"
Even as joy surged within Richard, a chill of dread crept in.
Ten years ago, he hadn't dared contradict his eldest daughter—not even once.
Her power was absolute.
Who could have imagined that a teenager was already capable of running the entire company?
Meticulous in thought, ruthless in execution.
She was Margaret's protégé, the heir personally groomed by her.
In both temperament and skill, she mirrored Margaret perfectly.
Yet she had surpassed her mentor.
In front of her, not even as her father could he gain any advantage, let alone entertain any schemes.
Skye fixed her icy gaze on her so-called "good father."
"Tell me, Father—were you hoping I'd died?"
Richard shook his head so hard it was like a rattle drum. "No, no, of course not, Skye! Dad just never expected you'd come back safe and sound. I'm so happy—so damn happy!"
Linda's heart lurched as she watched Richard grovel before Skye, a cold dread creeping up her spine.
Linda forced a strained smile and said in a sickly sweet voice, "So, you're Skye. I'm Linda. Child, no matter what, you really shouldn't have hit your father."
Linda had just begun her tirade, ready to completely ruin Skye's reputation, when Skye abruptly cut her off before she could finish.
Skye shot Linda a withering glare. "Who the hell do you think you are? Since when does a bitch like you get to lecture me? You're nothing but a groveling lapdog—just because you've spent a few days eating shit, you actually think you're human now?"
Linda's face turned ashen with humiliation, her complexion shifting between sickly pale and livid purple—utterly mortified.
Seeing her son get hit, Wilma's face twisted with fury.
She shrieked, "Where the hell did you crawl out from, you little bitch? How dare you hurt my son! Are you looking to die?"