Return of Black Lotus system:Taming Cheating Male Leads

Chapter 413: Chapter-413

The Marchioness’s face flushed a deep, violent red. "You have done enough!" she hissed, her voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. "After what you did yesterday, you still have the guts to sit here and mock everyone?"

Heena blinked, her face the absolute picture of flawless, innocent confusion. She offered her mother a soft, perfectly sweet smile.

"Mock?" Heena asked, her voice light and airy. "Mother, whatever do you mean? I did not say anything remotely mocking."

She tilted her head, her smile sharpening just a fraction at the edges. "I merely asked how you guys were doing this morning. That is all. It is not like I asked, ’How are you all feeling after living off my stolen money?’Come on."

*Dead silence.*

The sheer audacity of her words hung in the air like a physical weight. A stunned, suffocating quiet fell over the massive dining hall. The Marchioness glared at her with a hatred so pure it could have melted solid steel, while the four grooms stiffened in their cheap, scratchy linen clothes, their faces burning with utter humiliation.

Seeing their perfectly miserable expressions, Heena let out a bright, melodic laugh.

"Come on, guys! Take a joke," Heena teased, waving her hand dismissively. "Why the long faces? Are we still in mourning?"

Before the Marchioness could explode into another screeching fit, the Marquis loudly cleared his throat from the head of the table. He let out a heavy, authoritative cough, desperately trying to steer the conversation back to a battlefield he thought he could actually control.

"Dear," the Marquis stated, his tone clipped, cold, and entirely serious. "I am thinking about having your wedding preparations done. It is time we settle this."

Heena paused. Her amusement instantly vanished as she slowly turned her head to look at her father.

"Oh? Is that so?" Heena asked, her voice dropping into a dangerously calm register. "And with whom, exactly?"

The Marquis gestured vaguely toward the opposite side of the table, not even bothering to look at the men he was offering up. "With any of the four. We will officially select one for you."

Heena looked at the four grooms sitting in their peasant garb. They looked less like noble suitors and more like hostages. A cold, mocking smirk played on her lips.

"Come on, Father," Heena drawled, leaning back in her cushioned mahogany chair and crossing her arms. "It is not like you are going to arrange my marriage to *all four* of them, right? The empire’s laws only allow for one official husband."

She tapped her manicured fingers rhythmically against the table, her dark eyes turning incredibly sharp.

"And even if you are forcing me to pick one..." Heena continued, her voice echoing with the crushing, undeniable weight of her true status. "Should they not at least *deserve* it?"

She looked her father dead in the eye, completely dismantling his desperate little power play.

"After all, Father," she stated, her words slicing through the room like a freshly sharpened blade. "**Whoever becomes my official husband will automatically become the half-master of the entire Marquisate family.**"

Heena cast a sweeping, deeply condescending glance over Kavien’s broken nose, the Second Groom’s cowardice, the Third Groom’s silent calculations, and the Fourth Groom’s petty anger.

"Tell me," Heena challenged, her voice dripping with absolute authority. "Do you honestly look at these men and see someone capable of wielding half my power?"

The Marquis frowned, clearly unbothered by the moral implications of his next suggestion.

"Why is it that four husbands are not allowed?" the Marquis pressed, his voice flat and practical. "You could easily just make one of them your official, legal husband, and keep the other three as your noble concubines. It is not entirely unheard of for a woman of your rank."

Heena paused, tapping her chin as if genuinely considering the thought. Then, a slow, highly entertained smile spread across her face.

"Well, that is quite an ambitious idea, Father," Heena purred, her eyes dancing with wicked amusement. "But... just as I said before, whether it is one official husband or three concubines, they still have to actually *deserve* to be in my bed, do they not?"

*SMACK!*

The Marchioness violently slapped her palm against the mahogany table, making the silverware rattle. She glared at Heena, absolutely livid that her judgment was being questioned yet again.

"What the heck do you mean by *deserve*, huh?!" the Marchioness shrieked, entirely abandoning her aristocratic composure. "They were meticulously chosen by me and your father! Of course they deserve every single bit of this!"

Heena didn’t flinch at the loud noise. She just looked at her mother, her smile softening into something deeply patronizing, like a scholar explaining basic math to a toddler.

"Mother, please," Heena sighed softly. "Just because they were chosen by you does not magically make them perfect. And even if they were the most perfect men in the empire, *I* am the one who actually has to marry them. *I* am the one who is going to be the sole owner of this estate."

She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table as she seamlessly flipped the argument to target the one thing her mother cared about more than the grooms: **her public image.**

"If I marry some useless deadbeat who cannot even earn a single penny to his own name, what do you think the capital’s high society will say about *you*?" Heena asked, her voice dripping with fake, sympathetic concern.

The Marchioness froze, her anger suddenly faltering as the gears in her head started to turn.

"They would whisper in the tea salons," Heena continued ruthlessly, painting a vivid, horrifying picture for her status-obsessed parents. "They would say that the great Marquis and Marchioness were so desperate that they basically sold their only daughter off for pennies to a group of glorified beggars. Just think about how incredibly bad that would sound for your reputation, Mother. Just think about it."

The four grooms sat completely frozen in their chairs. None of them dared to speak up. It wasn’t just because they were too stunned to intervene; it was a matter of pure, terrifying survival. Stripped of their wealth and luxury, they currently had absolutely zero status in this household. If they dared to open their mouths now, the explosive, violent anger currently directed at Heena would undoubtedly pivot right onto them.

So, they smartly kept their mouths firmly shut.

Deep within Heena’s mind, the System’s mechanical voice chimed in with absolute precision.

**"Host, prepare yourself. Just ten seconds more."**

Hearing the countdown, a flawless, deeply mocking smile bloomed on Heena’s face. She turned her attention back to the seething Marchioness, completely dropping any pretense of respect.

"Come on, Mother," Heena sighed, her tone dripping with pure, unadulterated condescension. "Why are you shouting like a wild banshee again? Did Grandmother not explicitly tell you to shut up just yesterday?"

That was the final, fatal straw.

The Marquis’s patience completely and violently snapped. Blinded by fury and the repeated, public humiliation of his absolute authority, he lunged forward before anyone could react.

SMACK!

The Marquis struck Heena ruthlessly across the face. The sheer force of the brutal slap sent her completely off-balance, sweeping her off her feet and sending her crashing heavily onto the hard floor of the dining hall.