Chapter 11: A Queen Returns
Bella's POV
The silence after they left was deafening.
The hum of the refrigerator, the ticking clock on the wall, even the distant chaos of Lagos nightlife outside all of it blurred into nothing. What rang loudest were their voices. Crystal's rage. Christian's restraint. The echo of fists colliding.
And the sharp, unforgettable crack of pain when Crystal's fist met my ear.
I pressed the ice pack harder against my skin, forcing myself to breathe through the ache. The pain was sharp, but it was familiar. Pain had always been my companion. What hurt more was the truth behind it.
The same hands that claimed to protect me were the same hands that broke me.
I had been foolish once. Too forgiving. Too soft. Too eager to believe that love could fix men built on violence. Too eager to believe in fairytales where monsters became heroes just because they wanted to.
But fairytales don't raise Queens.
They called me Princess. Treated me like glass — something fragile to be carried, dropped, shattered, and glued back together when it suited them.
But glass doesn't rule empires.
Steel does.
Fire does.
Queens do.
And I was done being their delivery package.
So I began to plan.
Not to run. Never to run again.
A Queen doesn't beg for a seat at the table. She builds her own throne. She makes kings kneel.
And I was done waiting for permission to exist.
Christian's POV
I couldn't breathe.
Her words replayed in my head like bullets tearing through my skull.
Keep your dog on a leash.
Damn it. She was right. Crystal was a storm without control, and I had let that storm touch her. Hurt her. Again.
If Bella walked away forever, it would be because I failed her. Not Crystal. Me.
My feet carried me down the winding staircase into the depths of the estate — into the dungeon. The air changed as I descended. The smell of iron, mildew, and dried blood wrapped around me like a reminder of who we truly were.
Monsters pretending to be kings.
He was waiting. Shackled. Bruised. But smiling.
Anthony.
Once Christopher. Always poison.
"Ah, little brother," he rasped, lifting his head slowly. His grin was broken and bloody, but still sharp with madness. "How's your sweet Bella? Still bleeding? Or has she learned to moan for you yet?"
I slammed his head back against the bars before I could stop myself. The sound echoed through the chamber. His laugh followed.
"You think she'll forgive you?" he taunted. "You and Crystal kidnapped her. Broke her. Left her in the hands of monsters. You think a Queen kneels for men like you?"
That word again.
Queen.
For the first time, I hated that he might be telling the truth.
Bella's POV — Three Days Later
The sun burned against my skin as I stood at the gates of the Abaddon estate.
Alone.
No chauffeur. No brothers. No protection except my own spine and my own rage.
The guards stiffened when they saw me. Their rifles hung heavy, but their eyes refused to meet mine. They felt it. The shift.
The innocence they once mocked was gone.
"Tell your masters their Queen has arrived," I said calmly.
They hesitated.
I tilted my head slightly, a slow, dangerous smile touching my lips. "Do I need to repeat myself?"
One of them swallowed and ran inside.
I wasn't here to beg.
I wasn't here to forgive.
I was here to take back what was mine — or burn their empire to the ground trying.
A Princess can be discarded.
But a Queen?
A Queen is feared.
Time Flies
The grand doors of the Abaddon estate creaked open, slow and deliberate — like the house itself was measuring me.
I stepped inside without hesitation.
My heels struck marble, each step echoing like a war drum. This was the same hall where I had once been dragged in — small, shaking, powerless.
Not today.
Today, I walked in crowned by my own survival.
Crystal appeared first. Shirt half-open. Knuckles bruised. Arrogance still clinging to him like armor.
"Well, well," he drawled. "The runaway Princess comes crawling back."
I laughed. Sharp. Cold.
"Crawling?" I tilted my head as sunlight poured through the glass ceiling, lighting me like a crown. "Queens don't crawl, Crystal."
Christian appeared at the top of the stairs. No smirk. No arrogance. Just quiet torment — and something dangerously close to pride.
"Bella," he whispered, like my name was a prayer.
"I didn't come here to reminisce," I said, stepping forward. "I came for answers."
Crystal scoffed. "Answers? Or attention?"
Christian's glare shut him down instantly.
"What do you want to know?" Christian asked carefully.
I crossed my arms. "Who betrayed me? Who left me at the mercy of monsters while you two fought over your egos?"
Silence.
I narrowed my eyes. "You know."
Crystal looked away. Christian gripped the railing like it might break.
"Say his name," I ordered.
Christian hesitated.
So Crystal said it.
"Anthony."
The name hit like thunder.
"Anthony," I repeated slowly. "The brother you buried in chains."
Christian exploded. "Because he deserves it! You don't know what he's capable of—"
"And yet," I cut in, stepping closer, "he still outplayed you both."
Crystal's smirk returned darker now. "Told you. She's not your Princess anymore. She's our judge."
They thought this was about love.
It wasn't.
This was about power. Survival. Reclaiming everything that was stolen from me.
Bella the Princess might have been his victim.
But Bella the Queen?
She was coming for him.