Alpha's Abandoned Daughter is the Secret Heiress novel Chapter 220

<Chapter 220 The Real Ronan

Chapter 220: The Real Ronan

Chapter 220: The Real Ronan

(Author’s POV)

Vivian collapsed onto the cold stone floor, her hair a tangled mess around her face.

+25 Points

Her eyes, usually filled with arrogance, now burned with pure malice as she stared up at Amelia.

“What did you feed me?” she screamed hysterically, her voice cracking with fear and rage. “Answer me, you b***h!”

Amelia looked down at the woman with an expression of utter boredom, as if she were observing a piece of noisy trash.

She casually lifted her foot and pressed the tip of her boot against Vivian’s shoulder.

With a firm shove, she pushed the screaming woman away, creating distance between them.

Amelia smoothed her skirt, dusting off non–existent dirt with deliberate slowness.

“Moon Goddess, you are too loud,” Amelia said, her voice calm and pragmatic.

She tilted her head, her sapphire eyes cold.

“Vivian, if you want to live, I suggest you stop screaming and start using your brain.”

Amelia lifted her chin, pointing toward the man still kneeling and trembling beside the wheelchair.

“Look at him. He knows exactly when to shut up. Be smart, don’t just make noise.”

Vivian had never been treated with such dismissive humiliation in her life.

She gritted her teeth, her face twisting into a mask of hatred.

“I swear, if I get out of here alive, I will kill you!” she cursed, spitting the words out.

Amelia merely offered a contemptuous smile.

She raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

The sound was sharp in the quiet pavilion.

In the next second, the drug took effect.

Vivian’s eyes widened as she felt her blood instantly turn into boiling acid.

The burning sensation raced through her veins, scorching every inch of her body.

It felt as though a hydraulic press was slowly crushing her bones into dust.

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< Chapter 220 The Real Ronan

She curled up uncontrollably, letting out a shriek of agony that tore through the air.

Her body convulsed on the ground, her fingers clawing at the stone until her nails broke.

Amelia watched her writhe, waiting until Vivian was on the verge of fainting from the pain.

Only then did she leisurely reach into her pocket.

She pulled out a small glass bottle and shook out a single blue pill.

She crouched down and shoved it into Vivian’s open, screaming mouth.

As soon as the pill was swallowed, the hellish burning sensation receded like a tide.

Vivian gasped for air, her body limp and covered in cold sweat.

Amelia leaned in close to her ear, her voice sweet but terrifying.

“That relief you feel right now? That was just a countdown reset.”

“Vivian, this antidote isn’t a cure. It’s a ‘subscription renewal.”

Amelia stood up, towering over the defeated woman.

“I am the only one who can renew it for you. So, don’t bore me.”

Theodore turned his wheelchair around, his expression indifferent.

+25 Points

“Marcus,” he commanded. “Drag this noisy woman away. I don’t want her disturbing my lunch with

Amelia.”

Marcus stepped forward immediately.

He grabbed Vivian by the arm and dragged her away like a bag of garbage, ignoring her weak

sobs.

The pavilion finally returned to a peaceful silence.

Theodore opened the exquisite insulated food container on the stone table.

Inside lay perfectly cooked venison steaks and a fresh truffle salad, the aroma drifting through the

air.

Amelia sat back down opposite him.

Her gaze swept over the man who was still kneeling on the ground, trembling in silence.

She picked up her fork and raised an eyebrow, a touch of dark humor in her voice.

“Is he going to kneel there forever?”

She gestured with the fork.

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<Chapter 220. The Real Ronan

“This lunch date looks a bit like a medieval execution scene, don’t you think?”

Theodore cut a piece of venison, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

+25 Points

“Let him kneel,” he said coolly. “Only when we are full will we have the energy to deal with trash.”

They began to eat, the clinking of silverware the only sound.

“By the way,” Theodore said, pausing to look at her. That scandal video of Griffin Drake circulating online. Was that your handiwork?”

Amelia took a sip of red wine, her eyes sparkling with confidence and cunning.

“Griffin wanted to play technical games with me,” she replied.

“So, I gave him a technical demo. Consider it an educational experience. He should thank me for boosting his engagement metrics.”

After lunch, the atmosphere shifted.

Amelia took out a jar of special ointment that smelled of fresh herbs.

She knelt by Theodore’s legs and began to massage them, her movements professional and

gentle.

At the same time, she released her two pet snakes, Green and White, from her pouch. The snakes slithered out, moving along Theodore’s legs to assist with the massage therapy. Green, the smaller of the two, seemed to sense something amiss.

It slithered off Theodore’s lap and moved directly toward the kneeling “Ronan.”

The green snake reared its upper body, flicking its tongue and emitting a hostile hiss.

The kneeling man broke into a cold sweat, his eyes darting toward the reptile in terror. Inside Theodore, his wolf, Logan, let out a low, dangerous growl.

He could smell no familiar bloodline scent coming from this man.

There was only the stench of disgusting hypocrisy

The treatment ended, and Theodore adjusted his pant legs.

He finally focused his gaze on the shivering figure on the ground.

Just as the man thought a conversation was about to begin, Theodore threw out a cold question.

“Speak. Where is my real brother? Or rather, what have you done to him?”

The kneeling man froze instantly.

< Chapter 220: The Real Ronan

The blood drained from his face, leaving him deathly pale.

“I… I am your brother!” he stammered, his voice trembling. “Brother, it’s me, Ronan!”

Theodore watched the clumsy performance without a ripple of emotion in his golden eyes.

“I’ll give you one chance,” Theodore said, issuing his ultimatum.

“Tell the truth, or I will cut off your tongue first, and then crush your legs.”

The man opened his mouth to argue, desperation written all over his face.

Amelia, playing with a small ivory tool in her hand, chuckled softly.

“Your acting is terrible,” she scoffed. “Even my snake can’t stand watching it.”

Theodore lost his patience.

He looked toward the shadows outside the pavilion.

“Frost.”

The air seemed to ripple.

A hidden bodyguard clad in black tactical gear appeared out of thin air.

Seeing the assassin codenamed “Frost,” the man on the ground fell into utter despair.

He recognized this man.

Frost was a member of “The Shadows,” Theodore’s most feared elite guard unit.

He knew that the real Ronan had used his identity to lure these very guards away earlier.

“Cut his tongue out,” Theodore said, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather. Frost’s expression remained blank.

+25 Points

A specialized military silver dagger slid out from his sleeve, the blade glinting coldly in the sunlight.

He stepped closer to the imposter.

The fear of death finally shattered the man’s psychological defenses.

He stopped trying to bang his head on the floor in fake repentance.

Instead, he collapsed like a pile of mud, pressing his cheek tight against the cold stone slabs.

He raised his trembling hands high above his head in a gesture of absolute submission.

“Alpha! I’ll speak! I’ll tell everything! Please don’t cut my tongue! I was forced!”

Chapter 221 The Betrayal of Blood