Chapter 78
Qiana's lips trembled. "You… you took everything from our family… The company, the houses, the money… You left us with nothing… Just this one old house… Please, give us a way to live. Please…"
"A way to live?" Pearl straightened up and sneered. "Do you even deserve to live? That daughter of yours puts on a respectable act outside, but when she comes home, she's just like you—cowering in a corner, not daring to make a peep. Let me tell you—I've already talked to my dad about this house. Next month, it'll be transferred to my name. You can leave on your own, or I'll have people help you leave."
She took a step back and jerked her chin toward one of the thugs, Tate. "Since this old hag won't listen, help her out. Teach her what it means to be obedient."
Tate grinned, pulled a switchblade from his pocket, and flicked it open with a crisp metallic snap.
He crouched down and slowly dragged the flat of the blade down Qiana's cheek. "Don't blame us, old lady. We're just doing a job. If you don't want to suffer, just sign this paper."
He pulled a crumpled sheet from his pocket—a property transfer agreement.
Seeing the knife edge toward her mother, Gaia couldn't take it anymore. She gritted her teeth and charged forward.
She barreled into the living room and shoved Tate with all her strength.
Caught off guard, Tate stumbled backward. The tip of the blade grazed past Qiana's cheek, nicking the skin.
Gaia threw herself in front of Qiana, arms spread wide. "Mom!"
She glanced back at the wound on Qiana's forehead and the blood on her face. Her eyes instantly reddened. She whipped her head around and glared at Pearl. "Pearl, we've already given you everything! This is the only house left! Do you really have to push us to the brink? Do you have any humanity left?"
Pearl scoffed. "Oh, if it isn't our family's young miss."
She walked over in those sharp-heeled boots, looking down at Gaia condescendingly. "Push you to the brink? That sounds so harsh. I'm just here to collect my dad's property. I'm not here to take your life. If you know what's good for you, pack your things and get lost. Save me the effort."
"That's my grandfather's house!" Gaia's voice finally erupted from deep in her throat. "Not Beau's! It's my grandfather's! What right do you have—"
Before she could finish, Pearl grabbed a fistful of Gaia's hair and yanked her face close. "Lowlife bitch."
She hissed the words through her teeth and spat in Gaia's face. "Your grandfather's? That old bastard's been dead for years. Now everything in the Fisher family belongs to my dad. And what's my dad's is mine. Who the hell are you to fight me for it?"
She released Gaia's hair, stepped back, and jerked her chin toward the thugs. "Take care of her too. Strip her. Take some photos. Post them online. Let everyone see what kind of trash this Fisher family young lady really is."
The thugs cackled and closed in.
Tate led the way. One hand grabbed Gaia's wrist, the other latched onto the collar of her blouse.
Gaia struggled desperately, but how could her strength match several grown men? The first button of her blouse popped off and pinged against the wall with a sharp sound.
Tears streamed down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and kicked wildly. "Let me go! Let me go!"
Her voice cracked, filled with the desperation of someone backed against a cliff's edge. "Pearl! You took everything! Why are you still doing this? Why?"
Pearl leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking down at her. "Because it's fun."
Just as Tate's hand was about to tear open Gaia's collar, a dull thud echoed from the doorway.
The entire security door was kicked open from outside with such force that the whole living room shook.
Lucinda stood in the doorway.
Sunlight streamed in from behind her, casting a sharp halo around her silhouette. No one could see her expression clearly—only those eyes, cold as a frozen lake in the dead of winter.
Tate, still gripping Gaia's wrist, didn't have time to react. Lucinda stepped forward, pivoted on one foot, and delivered a clean, precise side kick straight to his chest.
Tate was sent flying backward. The switchblade flew from his hand and clattered into the corner.
Everyone in the living room froze.
The other two thugs instinctively released Gaia's mother and took a step back.
Pearl straightened up, the smirk frozen on her face.
Gaia scrambled up from the floor and shielded Lucinda, her voice trembling. "Ms. Wipere… You need to leave… There are too many of them. These people are dangerous…"
Lucinda glanced down at her and gently pushed Gaia behind her.
Fiona rushed into the living room right after, took in the scene, and her expression darkened. She stood at Lucinda's side.
Pearl snapped out of her shock and sized up this woman who'd barged in.
Cream-colored trench coat. Simple cut. No recognizable brand.
Black trousers. Flat shoes. Not a single piece of jewelry.
The wariness in Pearl's eyes faded, replaced by deeper contempt.
"Another one." She crossed her arms, that cruel smirk returning to her lips. "Fine. None of you are getting away."
Lucinda stood in the center of the living room, the corner of her mouth slowly curving upward—cold as a winter blade. "Do you even deserve to say that?"
She stepped forward as she spoke.
Before Pearl could react, Lucinda's hand had already grabbed her by the collar.
With a twist of her wrist and a precise kick to the back of Pearl's knee, Pearl screamed and her knees slammed hard onto the tile floor littered with porcelain shards. Her face twisted in pain and fear.
"What are you doing—do you know who I am? I won't let you get away with this! I'll make you regret this!" Pearl struggled to stand, her voice shrill and warped.
Lucinda crouched down. Her hand lifted. And fell.
The first slap landed squarely on Pearl's left cheek.
"That one's for Gaia."
Pearl's face whipped to the side. Before she could turn back, the second slap came from the opposite direction—harder, louder.
She couldn't even stay upright on her knees. Her forehead nearly hit the tile.
"That one's for her mother." Lucinda spoke as she struck, her presence radiating so fiercely that the thugs around them didn't dare step forward.
Blood trickled from the corner of Pearl's mouth. She opened her mouth to speak, but the third slap came down with a gust of wind, slapping the words—and the blood-mixed saliva—right back into her mouth.
She toppled sideways, her hand landing on a shard of porcelain. Her palm was sliced open, and her whole body trembled in pain.
"That one's for her late grandfather."
Pearl knelt on the ground, hair disheveled across her face, blood at the corner of her mouth, her entire body shaking.