Outcast Queen: Her Return from Hell novel Chapter 490

"Heh... it's over. It's all over..."

In the dim room, an unshaven Quentin was sprawled across the sofa.

Expensive liquor bottles rolled across the floor. Reeking of alcohol, his unfocused eyes stared ahead as he let out a series of chilling, hollow laughs.

"I accounted for every variable... but I never calculated that after being gone for so long, she could still command such terrifying forces." Over and over in his mind, like a nightmare on a loop, played the scene: that woman, dressed in black, standing atop the steel beast, coldly watching as a century of the Quincy family's legacy crumbled into dust.

"Quentin! We haven't lost yet!" Isabella shoved the door open, striding over the mess with crazed defiance burning in her eyes. "As long as we're alive, there's a chance to turn the tables!"

"Isabella, stop lying to yourself... there's no chance." Quentin squeezed his eyes shut in despair, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "More than ten years ago, I gave everything I had and still couldn't beat her. Now, I locked her up for over a decade, thinking I pulled her fangs... and what happened?"

He violently yanked at his own hair, letting out a dying wail from his throat:

"That woman... she isn't human! She's a monster!!"

"I'm just a mortal. How am I supposed to fight a monster?!"

Isabella sucked in a sharp breath. She lunged forward, grabbed Quentin by the collar, and hauled him forcefully off the sofa, screaming hysterically: "Quentin! Pull yourself together! When I say we haven't lost, we haven't lost!!"

Quentin was forced to tilt his head back, meeting his sister's bloodshot, paranoid gaze.

He managed a bleak, ugly smile:

"Isabella... you aren't me. You will never understand the suffocating despair of having that monster standing right in front of you."

A sharp slap suddenly echoed in the empty room.

Quentin grabbed his quickly swelling cheek, bloodshot rage instantly igniting in his eyes, but a second later, that aggression deflated like a punctured tire.

He slumped back onto the sofa, his voice raspy. "Hit me. Hit me as hard as you want. Right now, I'm just a useless piece of trash anyway."

"Quentin, I finally understand why you lost to Yara St. Claire!" Isabella's chest heaved as she glared at him with absolute frustration. "Because you are a coward in your bones! As long as we're breathing, the game isn't over!"

She slammed her hands onto the table, leaning into her brother's space. "So what if Yara swallowed half our assets? Did you forget about someone?"

Quentin looked up blankly. "Who?"

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