"I did bully her. What are you going to do about it?" Yvonne raised an eyebrow, her beautiful, fox-like eyes turning icy. "This is the Spencer family home. You wouldn''t darey a hand on me here, would you?"


    "You think returning to this house means you''ve escaped me?" Megan scoffed. "I can ruin you whenever I want."


    She pulled her phone from her purse and yed a video for Yvonne to see.


    The footage was dark and grainy, showing a small, cramped room. But the figures were recognizable: a younger version of the girl whose body Yvonne now upied, crying and struggling desperately.


    The girl''s screams were horrifying, even through the phone''s tiny speaker.


    For Yvonne, the memory was a distant, hazy nightmare a trauma the original Yvonne had tried to bury. Waking in the dead of night, disoriented, only to be pinned down by a man who reeked of alcohol. The little girl had fought and screamed, crying out, "Mom, help me! Please, help me!"


    Megan, in the next room, must have heard everything, but she did nothing.


    The girl, in a final act of desperation, had crawled to the window and thrown herself from the second floor. She had broken her leg in the fall, but she had escaped.


    And now Megan was using that moment of absolute terror, that unspeakable trauma, as a weapon. She truly was a monster.


    Yvonne''s face went pale, and the veins on the back of her clenched fists stood out in stark relief.


    Seeing her reaction, Megan smirked, believing she had won. "Scared now, are we you little slut? You want to be a star like Queena You should take a good look in the mirror and see if you''re even worthy."


    She waved the phone menacingly. "If this video gets out, you won''t just be finished


    as a celebrity—you''ll be finished as a person. Ha!"


    Yvonne pressed her lips into a thin line, forcing down her rage. "So you came here


    to warn me not to bother Queena anymore? Fine. I agree."


    1.n


    Her quick surrender only made Megan more arrogant. "I heard from Queena that you donated a hundred million to charity," she sneered. "Since you''re so rich, you should show some gratitude for the dozen years I spent raising you. Let''s start with five million. And from now on, you''ll transfer your monthly


    allowance to my ount."


    Yvonne was stunned by her audacity. “Queena''s allowance is muchrger. Why


    don''t you ask her? She''s your real daughter."


    "Queena needs her money for


    herself. She''s a properdy, and she can''t be without funds. You, on the


    other hand, are just a we


    stray. You don''t deserve an


    allowance at all." Megan tilted her chin, her tone utterly self-righteous.


    Yvonne scoffed internally, then adopted a timid expression. “But..... I don''t have five million."


    "Then how much do you have?" Megan asked impatiently.


    "Four... four million," Yvonne stammered.


    "Fine. Transfer the four million to me now."


    "If I give you all of it,” Yvonne asked meekly, “you won''t release the video?"