Your Queen is Back Surrender Now novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Bastien’s crew had the place sealed tight, checking every corner.

“No trace of Fox, sir!” one guy barked.

“Nothing here either!” another chimed in.

Bastien frowned. This was the last unsearched area, and the building’s layout left no room to hide.

‘So where is she?‘ he wondered.

His sharp eyes zeroed in on Narissa’s direction.

“Who’re those people?” he asked, voice low and edgy.

VIP lounge. Auction guests. Fox’s stunt freaked ‘em out, so they’re crashing there for now,” a team member replied.

Bastien’s gaze locked onto a teenage girl hugged tight by a stunning woman in the crowd.

He started toward them.

“Commander Harlow!” one of his crew barked. “We got a lead on Fox–spotted in the men’s restroom on the west side!”

“Let’s move!” Bastien whipped around and bolted, vanishing into the chaos.

Once he was gone, Narissa peeked out from the woman’s arms.

She couldn’t believe it. She’d dodged Bastien’s sweep that easily–no fight, no mess.

‘But… a mom?‘ Narissa’s lips curled into a sly grin. “Talk about family vibes I haven’t felt in, what, over a decade?‘

“Honey, this is our Narissa!” Amanda said, tugging Narissa toward a polished middle–aged man, her voice buzzing with

excitement.

“No doubt about it! She’s our girl’s double! Can’t be anyone else!” Hector matched her vibe, his eyes soft with concern as he looked at Narissa.

He added, “Heard some hotshot thief crashed the auction. Narissa, kiddo, you okay? Bet that scared the crap outta you. Don’t worry–Mom and Dad’s got your back. We’re taking you home, safe and sound.”

“Yeah, those goons looked rough. Let’s not scare our girl more. Honey, we gotta get Cressida outta here quick,” Amanda urged.

At the west Side men’s room, Bastien and his team barged in, spotting it: a black velvet gown and some disguise gear–Fox’s leftovers.

“Fox is too damn slick! Even changed her look!” one of his guys growled. “What’s next, sir?”

Bastien crouched, picking up the gown. A faint perfume mixed with a sweet, milky scent hit him.

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He knew that smell.

His eyes widened. It was the girl in the white dress from the VIP lounge.

“Son of a-!” He’d been played. Again.

His face darkened, eyes cold as ice. “Lock down that girl in the white dress from the VIP lounge. Now!”

“On it!” his crew replied.

Too late. Narissa was already out the VIP exit with Hector and Amanda, headed for Rothialand’s international airport.

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The Next Day, Narissa hadn’t even touched down with the Evertons before her story blew up across Rothialand–especially in Sinney City’s high–society crowd.

The Evertons were the kind of family everyone gossiped about. Everyone knew they’d lost a daughter thirteen years back.

Their eldest, Cressida, was a superstar–brains, talent, one named it. And now her long–lost twin, Narissa, was back.

Talk about a bombshell.

Reporters were all over it, but the Evertas kept things hush–hush, whisking Narissa to their massive estate without a peep.

Inside the Everton mansion, it was a full house.

Relatives–close and distant–packed the living room, circling Dario Everton like he was royalty. All eyes were glued to the

door.

When Narissa walked in with her parents, the room froze. Dozens of stares hit her like a spotlight, and she squinted, thrown off.

She was used to working in the shadows–pulling heists, taking out marks, gone before anyone blinked.

Being gawked at like this? Not her scene.

As soon as they stepped inside, Hector, her dad, practically tripped over himself to introduce her to the old guy in the crisp gray suit, gripping a cane like a scepter.

“Dad, this is Narissa…” Hector’s voice cracked. “She’s had it tough out there.

“If she hadn’t been at that auction we went to, who knows when we’d have found her?”

He got all misty–eyed, then nudged her forward. “Narissa, come on, this is your grandpa. Say hi!”

It was clear Hector wasn’t the one in charge–his dad Dario ran the show.

Narissa, shaped by a life of solo missions, wasn’t big on family.

But she was curious enough to give it a shot.

She opened her mouth to say “Grandpa,” but-

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“Enough!” A cranky voice cut her off.

Dario slammed his cane down, glaring at her like she was trash. “What’s all this fuss over some nobody?

“Look at her! No manners, no class. Take her out, and she’ll drag the Everton name through the mud!”

Dario, who’d built the family from nothing, wasn’t a fan of women. To him, they’d never stack up to men.

His only pride? Cressida. She was a rockstar–nailing everything from piano to punches, etiquette to sharpshooting. A real

Everton heiress.

Narissa? Not so much, in his book.

“Dad…” Hector mumbled, looking like he wanted to sink into the floor.

Amanda was smoother. She grabbed Narissa’s arm, steering things elsewhere.

“Dad, she’s just getting her bearings,” sh said. “But trust me–Narissa’s Cressida’s twin. She’s gotta have that same fire, right?”

Amanda flashed a grin at Cressida. “You two were glued at the hip as kids. Bet you’ve got a ton to catch up on!

“Cressida, go chat with your sis. Narissa, say hi to your big sis!”

Narissa finally got a good look at her older sister. Eighteen, five–foot–five, poised like a

queen.

Cressida wore a chic floral dress from a hot designer’s fall line, her twin pigtails framing a face that was almost Narissa’s twin -nine–tenths identical, easy. Petite and charming, she screamed “rich girl” vibes.

Narissa had seen her share of high–fliers worldwide, but here, Cressida was the one to beat.

As Narissa checked her out, Cressida was doing the same.

“Pfft, no way my sister’s a freaking maid!” Cressida scoffed, ducking behind their grandfather like he was a shield. “Mom, Dad, where’d you find this rando?

“Looks like me, so she’s my sister now? You even check her DNA?”

She smirked, arms crossed. “Bet she’s scamming you! Playing the poor cleaner girl? I saw her face in some gossip rag–some rich dude’s arm candy abroad!”

Her words hit like a punch. Dario’s face turned stormy, and the maids and staff shot Narissa dirty looks.

“Cressida!” Amanda gasped, floored her polite daughter could be so nasty. “That’s no way to talk about your sister! Is this how we raised you?”

“Cressida!” Hector snapped, glaring. “Say sorry to her. Now.”

“I didn’t say squat that’s not true!” Cressida whined, pouting. “Why am I the bad guy? Look her up online, check her past

abroad!”

The room went quiet, tension thick as fog.

Then-

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“Tch!” A sharp, mocking voice cut in, laced with a laugh. “No proof, just running your mouth? This the class of the Everton family’s princess?”

“More like a trash–talking wannabe!” Narissa shot back, her tone razor–sharp. “Gotta say, the Everton family’s really something… or not.”

Everyone’s jaws dropped.

Narissa was the new kid in this fancy family. Unlike Cressida, who could mouth off and get a slap on the wrist, Narissa was supposed to play nice, fit in.

But calling Cressida a wannabe? Trashing the Everton family? They all thought she’d lost it.

Dario lost it first. His eyes bulged. “Listen to this! This is the girl you brought home? Talking that trash? Raised in the streets, no class at all!”

“Shameful!” he roared, storming toward Narissa, cane raised like a club. “Fine! I’ll teach you the Everton family’s rules myself! We didn’t get a second heiress–we got a damn delinquent!”

In a flash, he swung his cane at Narissa.

Old or not, the guy was a former soldier–his swing was fast and mean. No dodging it unless he held back. One hit, and she’d be black–and–blue, laid up for weeks.

Hector and Amanda went pale.

“Dad!” Hector shouted.

“Dario, no-!” Amanda followed.

The staff froze, already picturing Narissa begging for mercy after the blow.

But then-

Just as the cane came down, Narissa raised a hand to her lips, pulling a dramatic mock gasp.

Without looking up, she flicked her wrist–snap–and caught the cane mid–swing, her grip dead–on.

With a lazy tug, she yanked it from him.

Then, right there in front of everyone, she snapped the cane–thick as a baseball bat–in half with one easy twist.

Crack! The pieces hit the floor.

“Whoops, forgot to mention,” Narissa said, her voice cold and sharp. “I’ve got a short fuse. And I hate people pointing crap at me–even my so–called grandpa.”

She leaned in, eyes like ice. “Do it again, and it’s not your cane I’ll break. It’ll be your neck.”

The room went silent, every jaw on the floor.

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