"I was so young and silly back then," Queena said, herrge, dewy eyes looking up at him with a shy, demure expression. "I must have caused you so much trouble."


    “Not at all. You were adorable,” Matthew replied with a warm smile, his gaze on Queena filled with unmistakable tenderness.


    The three of them were in the middle of a pleasant conversation when the maid''s voice cut through the air, sounding jarringly out of ce.


    "Good morning, Miss Spencer."


    Matthew turned and saw Yvonne slowly descending the grand wooden staircase. She was dressed simply in a white knit sweater and jeans, but her striking, fox-like eyes shone with a brilliant light, giving her a stunning beauty that felt entirely new to him.


    "Sleeping in until noon again," Teresa said with her customary frown the moment she saw Yvonne. "When are you going to fix thatzy habit of yours?"


    “She''s just a little fond of her sleep, Mom. It''s not like it''s a bad habit. You shouldn''t scold her for it," Queena chimed in, ying the role of the gentle peacemaker.


    "She has plenty of bad habits! It''s clear those low-ss people raised her all wrong. Why can''t she learn a thing or two from her older sister?" Teresa sighed, still frowning.


    So, they were starting in on her first thing in the morning. Yvonne crossed her arms, her gaze coolly sweeping over them. "Learn what from her? How to be an imposter? How to be a drama queen? Or how to shamelessly throw herself at an engaged man?"


    "You-!" Teresa''s face turned pale with anger.


    "Yvonne, she is your mother. Is that any way to speak to your elders? Where are your manners?" Matthew interjected, his face stern.


    Yvonne let out a coldugh and


    pointed a finger at Queena. "Her real


    mother stole me at birth so this one could live a life of luxury, raising me like an animal ?had a father who didn''t raise me and a mother who didn''t want me. What manners would I have? Queena, is thievery a family tradition? Your parents steal babies, and you steal men. I see the talent runs in the family."


    The real Yvonne had been too timid. She was the victim, yet she never dared to say a word of usation And when victims stay silent, their beneficiaries feel all the more justified. But Yvonne was


    novel


    determined to constantly remind them of the crimes Queena''s parents hadmitted, and of the fact that Queena was the one who had profited most from their wickedness.


    "I... I... I''m sorry..." Queena, with no defense, could only lower her head, her


    shoulders shaking as she began to sob softly.


    From Matthew''s angle, all he could see was the top of her dark hair and the pale nape of her neck. Her heartbroken cries were enough to make anyone''s heart ache. Feigning misery and ying the


    victim-Queena was a natural. One would think she was the one who had suffered for all those years.


    "That''s enough, Yvonne!" Matthew snapped, his face dark. "Queena was innocent in what happened back then. Do you have to say such things just to hurt her?"


    "Who are you to judge whether she''s innocent? Who do you think you are? Just a poor boy who struck it rich, and now you think you''re somebody." Yvonne shot back, giving him no face at all.


    Matthew''s face turned ashen.


    Teresa mmed her hand on the table. “Yvonne, are you trying to give me a heart attack first thing in the morning?"


    "If you don''t want a heart attack, then stop provoking me," Yvonne retorted without backing down. "I don''t start fights, but I will finish them."


    Teresa looked ready to hit her, but Matthew stepped in. “Mrs. Spencer, Yvonne is still young and doesn''t know any better. Please don''t be angry with her. She is my fiancée. I''ll teach her how to behave from now on."


    His face was still grim, but he couldn''t stand by and watch Yvonne get hit. After all, she was still his fiancée.


    At his words, a flicker of viciousness crossed Queena''s downcast eyes.