Queen Mommy's Six Genius Babies Found the CEO Daddy-Chapter 113: The Enemy

"If you dare lay a finger on her, you won’t live to regret it!"

The line went dead. Lucas clenched his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Mr. Hilton, sir—"

"I’m going out. Anyone who comes looking for me—make them wait!"

Lucas stormed toward the door, ripping off his tie as he went, fury radiating from every step.

...

On the other side of town, Sophia’s head throbbed painfully.

Her nose twitched. The metallic scent of blood—sharp and cold—hung in the air.

She blinked herself awake, confusion swirling in her gaze. Her wrists and ankles—tied.

"Who’s there? Show yourself!" she snapped.

A lazy, mocking voice answered from behind her. "Awake already? Fiery. I like that. Seems I’ve got good taste." 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

A tall figure stepped into view.

He wore a simple black coat, yet somehow his presence was almost... mesmerizing. Beautiful, in a way that felt wrong.

His features were too perfect, too smooth—handsome, but laced with something cold and dangerous.

Sophia frowned slightly. "Who are you?"

She spoke evenly, her voice calm but sharp. Then, as if reviewing her memory, she added, "I don’t remember you. We’ve never met."

"You’re right—you don’t know me," the man said, his tone dripping with amusement. "But I know you, Sophia. The world-famous designer, Luna. Two-time Global Young Designers’ Champion. Now married to Lucas Hilton, the elegant Mrs. Hilton, First Lady of Hilton Group. Oh, and—rumor has it—you’re also the heiress of YL Group."

Sophia arched a brow. "You just recited a list of public facts. Are you trying to impress me with how outdated your intel is?"

Owen chuckled lowly. "I love women with sharp tongues. The ones who bite back at first... then beg for mercy later. It’s delicious."

He stepped closer. His skin was flawless—so smooth even another woman might envy it.

Sophia turned her head away in disgust. "This is about Lucas, isn’t it?"

That caught him off guard. "You are smart," he admitted, lips curving.

"If this were about me, you’d have already said what you wanted. The brand you’re wearing—two years out of season. That jacket alone cost a fortune back then, but not anymore. You dress expensively, yet every piece screams obsolete. And then you drop Lucas’s name on purpose." Her tone sharpened. "You’ve got a grudge against him."

Owen clapped mockingly. "Bravo."

"Name," she demanded.

"Owen Reid. Nice ring to it, doesn’t it?"

Sophia froze, repeating it under her breath—Owen Reid.

Then it hit her. Reid Group. Six years ago, it had stood shoulder to shoulder with Hilton Group.

"You’re from the Reid family—the one that..."

Owen smirked. "So you do remember me. Impressive. Not many people do anymore."

Sophia’s brows drew together.

Six years ago, the Reid Group’s production line collapsed overnight. Days later, a mysterious fire consumed the entire Reid estate. No survivors.

Yet here he was—alive.

Her gaze drifted down to his gloved hands. He held a cane, standing like a man who’d crowned himself king.

If she guessed right, his flawless face was probably the only part of him left untouched by the fire.

"What does this have to do with Lucas?" she asked quietly.

Owen’s voice dropped, smooth and dark. "What do you think, Sophia? When the Reids fell, who rose to power? Who inherited everything we lost?"

"So you blame Hilton Group. You blame Lucas."

He began pacing around her, slow, predatory. "You catch on quick."

Sophia laughed suddenly, the sound low and cold.

"What’s so funny?" he snapped.

"I’m laughing at you," she said, lifting her chin with icy defiance.

Owen narrowed his eyes and used the tip of his silver cane to lift her chin. "What did you just say?"

"Where’s your proof?" Sophia shot back, her tone calm but cutting.

"Proof? You think I need proof? It’s written all over the evidence you can see with your own eyes! The Hilton family plotted everything—every detail—but what they didn’t expect..." His voice dropped, filled with venom. "...was that I, Owen, the youngest son of the Reid family, would survive."

He drew in a long, ragged breath, as if dragged back to that night six years ago.

He could still hear the screams fading, one by one, until there was only silence. Everything—gone.

His brother. His parents. All burned to ash in a single night.

And him—barely clinging to life, his body covered in burns, but still breathing. Still alive.

If the heavens had left him alive, it was for one reason only: revenge.

Sophia’s voice was steady when she spoke. "The Reid Group fell, yes. But you survived. Shouldn’t that make you value life even more? You want revenge—I won’t judge that—but shouldn’t you find the real killer first?"

"Lucas," Owen spat, his voice cold and sharp. "The entire Hilton family is the killer."

"Debts must be repaid. Murderers must face justice—that’s always been true. But if you target the wrong person, and the real murderer walks free... won’t your revenge become meaningless?"

"I know it’s him!" Owen snapped. "Don’t act smart with me. You’re just buying time, waiting for your precious Lucas to come save you."

He smirked. "Relax. I already called him. He’s on his way. You don’t have to be scared... yet."

His grin turned dark. "While we wait—why don’t we play a game?"

Sophia could tell nothing she said was getting through to him. Every word bounced off like a stone hitting steel.

He’d already decided—Hilton Group was guilty. Changing his mind was impossible unless the real mastermind crawled out of the shadows.

Now he wanted to play?

"Why would I agree to that?" she asked coolly.

"I’ve heard that Lucas Hilton never truly loves anyone. The only person he’s ever cared about... is himself." Owen leaned closer, his tone dripping with mockery. "So tell me, Sophia—when it comes down to it, when only one of you can live—will it be him, or you?"

His laugh was low and twisted. "It’s my game. My rules. I get the first guess—and I’m betting he chooses himself."

Wagering a person’s life like it was entertainment—Sophia’s stomach turned. Disgust flared behind her eyes.

"If you don’t speak," Owen said, his smile curling wider, "I’ll take that as a yes. The game starts now."

Her voice was calm but fierce. "Where did you get the confidence to think he’d choose himself over me?"

He froze for half a second, and she pressed on. "You’ve been alone too long. You’ve forgotten what trust feels like. So you tell yourself love is fake—because it’s easier than admitting you don’t believe you deserve it."

Owen’s smile thinned. "You’re right. But that doesn’t change a thing. I make the rules here."

Sophia lifted her head slowly until her eyes locked with his, steady and unflinching. "Then let’s raise the stakes."

Owen tilted his head, intrigued. "Oh? What else do you want?"

"If I win," she said clearly, "you give me a chance to investigate. Just one. I won’t let you destroy an innocent man because of your hatred."

"You’re negotiating with me?" His tone turned dangerous.

She smirked. "What’s wrong, Owen? Afraid you’ll lose?"