Chapter 409

Sophia: "Yes."

Ethan turned his piercing gaze toward Victoria Sullivan. "Where are the two maids?"

Victoria stammered, "Wh-what maids?"

Margaret and Abigail had been Victoria’s most loyal servants. With them stationed at Blackwood Manor, feeding her every piece of information, Victoria had maintained her position in the household.

Only then did Eleanor Blackwood and Richard Blackwood treat their distant niece with such affection—almost like their own daughter.

"Nathan!" Ethan's voice cut through the tension.

Nathan Carter stepped forward immediately. "Yes, Mr. Blackwood?"

"Break Margaret and Abigail’s hamstrings. Then throw them into a shipping container bound for Africa. Even crippled, they’re still women—they won’t go to waste." Ethan’s tone was chillingly casual, as if discussing the weather.

But those familiar with Ethan Blackwood knew better.

He never made empty threats.

He was a man who followed through.

Margaret and Abigail, more than anyone, understood the ruthlessness of the Blackwood heir. That was why they had tormented Sophia relentlessly, believing Ethan would never spare her.

They never expected he would not only spare her but claim her as his wife.

The two maids collapsed to their knees, sobbing and kowtowing. "Please, Mr. Blackwood! Give us another chance! We’ll never disrespect Mrs. Blackwood again! We’ll do anything—just don’t send us away!"

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. "Nathan, their whining is giving me a headache. If you don’t handle this quickly, consider your salary forfeited."

Nathan didn’t hesitate. "Understood, sir."

With that, he seized both women by their collars and dragged them out like unruly dogs.

Their screams echoed through the halls, drawing the horrified stares of the other servants. None dared speak.

"Mr. Carter, please!" Margaret begged through tears. "You’re close to the master—plead for us! We’ll serve you forever!"

Nathan sighed. "Margaret, you’ve worked here for years. The Blackwoods paid you better than most corporate jobs. Yet you chose to humiliate Mrs. Blackwood at every turn. Even if she weren’t his wife, what grudge did you hold against her?"

"We were wrong!" Abigail wailed.

"Too late," Nathan said coldly. "You had your chance."

As he hauled them away, the rest of the staff exchanged uneasy glances before bowing deeply. "Welcome home, Mr. Blackwood. Welcome home, Mrs. Blackwood."

Even Victoria, trembling beside them, forced out a shaky greeting.

Sophia said nothing.

Ethan didn’t acknowledge anyone else. His grip on Sophia’s arm was unyielding as he led her into the grand hall.

The moment they stepped inside, he announced, "This is my wife, Sophia."

Sophia’s breath hitched. She glanced at Ethan, but his expression was unreadable. His hold on her was firm—she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to.

The Blackwood Manor’s hall was as opulent as she remembered, though far emptier than six years ago.

Her gaze swept across the room.

William Blackwood, the family patriarch, sat in the center with his wife, Grace. Little Lily was perched on his lap, holding a walnut threateningly in the air.

The moment she spotted Sophia, her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Sophia’s lips twitched. Oh no.

"Mommy!" Lily chirped. "Don’t worry! I told Grandpa if he dares kick you out, I’ll shove this walnut in his mouth and knock his teeth out!"

Sophia choked back a laugh. Sweetheart, maybe don’t announce your plans first?

The old man chuckled, clearly amused. "Such a fierce little granddaughter! How could I ever say no?"

Lily beamed triumphantly.

Sophia didn’t realize that while Lily had been "negotiating," Ethan had already delivered his own ultimatum to the family:

"Whether you accept her or not, she’s my wife. I brought her here as a courtesy. If you want to keep living comfortably in this house—if you ever want to see Lily again—you’ll behave."

Ethan had no sentimental attachment to Blackwood Manor.

Not to his father.

Certainly not to Eleanor, whose indirect actions had led to his mother’s demise.

The only reason they still lived here was because they were harmless—and because they were, technically, family.