Outcast Queen: Her Return from Hell novel Chapter 111

"Ah!" Penelope Sterling gasped. She clutched her swatted hand and frantically apologized to Ian Prescott. "I'm sorry, Ian. I didn't mean to... I just felt so uncomfortable seeing you stare at another woman..."

Ian ignored her. Instead, he slowly pulled out a silk handkerchief and methodically wiped the cheek she had just touched. His movements were deliberate and meticulous, as if he had been contaminated by a filthy disease.

The sight stung Penelope's eyes.

Humiliation and grievance welled up inside her, but she didn't dare lash out. Ian was a top-tier celebrity; his face was his greatest asset and the dream of millions of young women. She knew she had crossed the line and acted too impulsively.

"Penelope, who I look at is my own business," Ian said coldly, tossing the used handkerchief into a nearby trash can. "If you're going to micromanage that, then we have no reason to see each other again."

"No! Ian, I was wrong!" Penelope panicked, grabbing his sleeve in a desperate plea. "I won't care who you look at anymore, just please don't ignore me..."

Seeing his continued coldness, she gritted her teeth. "How about this? I'll invest another ten million dollars into your movie. What do you say?"

"Ian, please forgive me just this once." She shook his arm, practically begging in a submissive whine.

Ian scoffed softly. A hint of disdain flashed in his eyes, but his expression softened a fraction. "Penelope, money isn't everything. But... seeing how sincere you are, I'll let it slide. Don't let it happen again."

"Thank you, Ian!" Penelope instantly broke into a tearful smile, acting as if she had just been granted a royal pardon.

Not far away, Meredith Miller watched the entire spectacle unfold, completely dumbfounded.

"Phoenix, I used to read novels and think that people being absolute doormats was just some exaggerated fiction. Who in reality could be that brainless? Now I believe it. Art truly imitates life."

Phoenix Prescott's lips twitched, a mocking glint in her eyes.

Relying on his good looks, Ian thrived in the entertainment industry. To the public, he was a gentle, gentlemanly heartthrob, but behind closed doors, he was a pathologically narcissistic jerk.

The floodgates of her memories suddenly burst open.

When she first returned to the Prescott family, she clumsily prepared gifts for all her so-called relatives in a desperate bid for their affection. For Ian, she spent several sleepless nights hand-knitting a scarf.

But his reaction that day still pierced her heart like an icicle.

"A country bumpkin like you reeks of poverty. You think you're worthy of giving me a gift?"

Ian had picked up the scarf with two fingers in disgust, as if it were trash crawling with a virus.

"You knit this yourself? Hah. Who knows how many germs are on this thing. If I wore it, my face would probably rot off. Ugh, I wouldn't even use this to mop the floor."

Then, right in front of her, he set the scarf on fire and watched it burn.

Cousin? She must be Silas Sterling's daughter.

Since she was the daughter of Pierce's useless uncle, there was no need to hold back.

"I'm here to buy a car, not to watch you act like a pathetic doormat," Phoenix stated, her tone flat but devastating. "Instead of acting like a proper heiress, you insist on begging for attention. The Sterling family's upbringing is truly an eye-opener."

"What did you say?!" Penelope trembled with rage and shrieked, "Manager Vance! Curtis Vance! Where the hell are you? Get over here right now!"

Right on cue, the roar of an engine echoed through the room. Curtis Vance carefully parked the dealership's crown jewel, the multimillion-dollar hypercar. The moment he stepped out, he saw Penelope looking murderous and jogged over in a panic.

"Ms. Sterling, what's wrong?"

"I'm ordering you right now—" Penelope pointed at Phoenix and Meredith, her face twisted in anger. "Throw these two bitches out! Otherwise, I'll have your dealership shut down by tomorrow!"

"Well..."

Curtis's face paled. He looked from the furious Penelope to the completely unfazed Meredith, groaning internally.

When gods fought, mortals suffered! Neither of these women was someone he could afford to offend.