My Family Wanted a Sacrificial Bride, They Got a Boxing Queen Chapter 02

My Family Wanted a Sacrificial Bride, They Got a Boxing Queen Chapter 02

That afternoon, Emmeline summoned Stillwater’s most demanding etiquette instructor to the house.

“A proper young lady never slouches!”

The instructor frowned at my relaxed stance, then approached from behind with a long needle, aiming straight for my spine to force my shoulders back.

A sharp crack rang out as the needle snapped in half. Years of heavy squats had built up my trapezius muscles and thickened my back, and a sewing needle didn’t stand a chance.

The instructor stared at the broken tip in her hand like she’d seen a ghost.

She swallowed hard and switched tactics, ordering me to balance a bowl of water on my head and practice a catwalk with soft, delicate steps.

I pressed my palm down on the mahogany dining table in irritation.

“Are we done yet?”

A solid chunk of the table’s corner crumbled under my grip.

Emmeline gasped so sharply she nearly fainted, but with the evening’s engagement hanging in the balance, she swallowed her fury and dismissed the instructor immediately.

I sprawled on the sofa and closed my eyes.

The door creaked open, and Cleo slipped inside, stealing furtive glances over her shoulder.

She pressed a small bottle of muscle rub into my hand, her eyes rimmed red, and stammered.

“Vesper… I’m so sorry. I’m just… I’m so terrified of pain, and that’s why I’m making you go instead.”

She took a shaky breath and clenched her fists like she was steeling herself for battle.

“But don’t worry! I’m going to secretly save up my allowance, and if Magnus ever hits you, I’ll cover all your medical bills. I swear I won’t let you suffer for nothing.”

I watched her stand there looking like she was about to march to her own execution, and I couldn’t help it. I reached out and pinched her soft cheek.

It was surprisingly soft.

The girl was useless and timid, but at least she had a conscience, which was more than I could say for the rest of the Hayes family.

Before I could respond, raucous laughter erupted from the living room.

Corbin strolled in with a pack of his trust-fund cronies, and the moment they spotted me, their faces twisted with open contempt.

“Yo, Hayes, this is the long-lost daughter? With that tan and all that muscle, she’d be a beast on a construction site.”

Corbin’s sneer was dripping with disdain.

“What do you expect from someone who grew up with an underground brawler? She reeks of cheap sweat and violence, and she’s only good for one thing—being that psycho Magnus’s human punching bag.”

I shot to my feet the second I heard the words “underground brawler.”

Corbin’s smug expression evaporated, his legs buckled, and he backpedaled so fast he collapsed onto the sofa, his voice cracking into a shriek.

“W-what are you going to do?”

“Vesper!”

Reginald emerged from his second-floor study, brandishing the property deed.

“Lay one finger on your brother, I dare you, and I’ll have that shabby little gym bulldozed within the hour.”

I locked eyes with that deed, my fists clenching so tight my palms drew blood. I forced the violence back down my throat.

“You don’t need to remind me,” I said, my voice flat and cold.

That evening, Emmeline sent over a strapless gown covered in diamond chips, and I threw it straight into the trash.

I pulled a tailored, jet-black designer suit from the wardrobe instead.

I put on the suit, tied the tie, and pulled my disheveled hair back into a sleek knot. The person staring back at me in the mirror was no lamb headed to slaughter.

Broad shoulders filled out the jacket’s silhouette, the fitted waist hinted at explosive power, and my legs looked long and lethal.

I smirked at my reflection.

Magnus Thorne, I really hope you can last three rounds against these fists.