After a moment of stunned silence, all three members of the Bishop family glared at Penelope, who simply stated in a light tone,
“I didn’t like it.”
Yvonne gritted her teeth. “If you’re going to have a meltdown, do it somewhere else! This is my home! I’m asking you to get out, right now, and never set foot in this house again!”
The threat only made Penelope’s smile widen.
“This door? I can walk through it whenever I please. You, on the other hand, have no right to stop me.”
“Ha! Even though you have Bishop blood, this family will ever acknowledge you. As long as I’m against it, you can forget it!” Yvonne shouted.
“Acknowledge me?” Penelope clicked her tongue. “Is the Bishop family plot six feet deeper than everyone else’s? Why would I want to be acknowledged by you?”
“Then get out!”
“I’m in my own house. Shouldn’t you be the one to leave?”
Yvonne’s fists clenched in rage, but Mrs. Bishop held her back, likely knowing that the three of them together were no match for Penelope.
“Mrs. Stapleton, we don’t want to argue with you. Please leave immediately,” Mrs. Bishop said, adopting the tone of the lady of the house.
Penelope continued to ignore Mrs. Bishop, pointing instead to the second floor. “I want the room on the east side, the one with the terrace and the pool. I won’t be living here, but I want it kept empty for me.”
“Are you completely out of your mind? Why on earth would we keep a room for you in our house!”
Yvonne lunged at Penelope, only to be shoved back with a flick of her wrist.
“You… you’ve gone too far!” Mrs. Bishop cried, rushing to steady her daughter.
“Penelope, have you had enough?!” Hans, who had been standing with a cold expression, as if he couldn’t be bothered to engage, finally lost his composure.
“Get out! Get out now!” he roared.
“You’re the ones who should get out!” Penelope roared back.



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