Outcast Queen: Her Return from Hell novel Chapter 343

The tea room was tranquil, filled with the soft, bubbling sound of boiling water.

Phoenix sat poised at the tea table, her slender fingers tracing the rim of a white porcelain teacup. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of casual amusement.

"Ms. Prescott," Lawrence stepped forward softly, bowing slightly. "Warren is here."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, took a slow sip of her clear tea, and said calmly, "Let him in."

Warren was guided into the room.

Stepping into the familiar tea room, he felt a prickle of unease run down his spine. This used to be his territory, where he gave the orders, but now it felt like stepping into a dragon's den. The slender figure sitting at the tea table made his legs feel heavy, every step a monumental effort.

"Are you planning to just stand there all day?" Phoenix leisurely poured another cup of tea without even looking up at him. "If you enjoy standing around, be my guest. But my time is valuable, and I'm not going to waste it waiting for you."

Warren's Adam's apple bobbed. He took a deep breath and forced his legs to move forward.

He approached the table, pulled out a sandalwood chair, and had just bent his knees to sit—

"Did I say you could sit?" Phoenix paused her movements, lifting her gaze to glare at him coldly. "You're a guest here. Taking a seat before the host invites you is incredibly rude, don't you think?"

Warren's pupils constricted, a surge of pure fury shooting straight to his head. He gritted his teeth and hissed, "Phoenix, don't push it!"

"Push it?" Phoenix rubbed the smooth rim of her cup, a mocking smirk playing on her lips. "You truly have a terrible memory. Four years ago, when I was first brought back to the Prescott Family, I was starving and about to sit down for dinner. Do you remember what you said to me? 'You don't sit until the elders give you permission!'"

Warren froze, the dusty memory suddenly rushing back.

When Phoenix was first brought home, she had looked so shabby and acted so timidly that she seemed worse off than the servants.

He had been filled with disgust for this uncultured biological daughter of his, and he had mercilessly put her in her place right at the dinner table. He could still remember the terrified, teary-eyed look on the girl's face. In the end, it was Vanessa who had stepped in to smooth things over, tossing her a scrap of mercy.

But the thought of losing his position as patriarch and the Prescott Group going bankrupt forced his spine—which had remained straight for half his life—to bend inch by inch. If he didn't submit, he would be left with nothing.

"Phoenix... I was wrong." Warren lowered his head, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. He forced the bitter words through his teeth. "I solemnly apologize for everything I've done in the past, and for my recent foolishness. For the sake of our shared blood, please come back and take charge of the company."

Phoenix shook her head slightly, her eyes full of mockery. "That's it?"

"What else do you want from me?!" Warren roared violently, but upon meeting her icy stare, he violently swallowed his resentment, his chest heaving heavily. "Tell me... what exactly do I have to do for you to come back?"

"Grovel." Phoenix's lips curled, her smile dripping with chilling malice. "I want you to bow your head and confess your sins."

"Phoenix!!!" Warren's eyes were bloodshot, shaking to his core with pure, unadulterated rage. "I am your father! You want your own father to grovel at your feet? Are you not afraid of rotting in hell?!"

"Stop." Phoenix raised a hand to cut off his impotent screaming, her tone indifferent. "The Deed of Severance made it perfectly clear in black and white—we have nothing to do with each other anymore. Besides, given the atrocities you've committed against me in the past, I'm more than deserving of your absolute surrender."