The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 199: Common Hatred

Furious, Queenie lunged toward him, reaching out to tweak his ear. But John quickly darted around to the other side of the sofa.

"Hey, hey! Don't forget—we agreed to the rules beforehand! You can't go back on your word!"

"What rules?! I never agreed to three rules!"

Queenie chased him around the sofa again and again, but John was just a bit too fast. Eventually, she huffed in frustration and gave up.

"Fine! I'll keep my word. I won't argue with you anymore."

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"Swear it."

Queenie hesitated, then gritted her teeth and said, "I swear—if I still care about what happened just now, I'll never get married!"

Satisfied, John cautiously circled back and sat down beside her on the sofa. As promised, Queenie didn't attack. Instead, she gave him a venomous glare.

"It's all your fault, you little scoundrel. I sprained my ankle chasing you just now. It hurts like hell!"

"What? You sprained your ankle? Let me see."

John gently took her delicate foot in his hands, ready to inspect it. But as soon as he touched her ankle—

"Ow! What the hell are you doing?! That hurts! Are you trying to break it?"

Queenie shrieked and, without hesitation, pinched his ear hard.

"Ahhh!" John nearly burst into tears.

"I barely even touched you! Are you just getting revenge?!"

But Queenie, victorious, stood up and trotted into his room—ankle apparently just fine.

John watched her go, ears still burning.

So it's true.

She faked the injury just to mess with him.

He slumped on the sofa with a deep sigh. Just as he was sinking into a sulk, a figure leapt in from the balcony with a cheeky smile.

"Hey, John! Pretty fast, right? I made it from New York in under two hours! How many days are we staying this time?"

It was none other than Alice.

John glanced over, unimpressed.

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"Can we please talk about this whole breaking-in-through-the-balcony thing? This is the fifth floor! Aren't you worried someone will call the cops on you?"

"I'm used to it. Back when I was a killer, I loved balconies. Wait—John... why are your ears so red?"

She reached toward him.

But before she could get close, Queenie suddenly walked out of his room.

And she was pissed.

Her expression was icy cold. She was wearing one of John's oversized shirts—clearly something Alton had bought for him. It hung just long enough to cover the top of her thighs, leaving her smooth, jade-like legs completely exposed.

It was...

dangerously tempting.

Alice froze like a deer in headlights.

She jumped up from the sofa as if electrocuted.

"S-sister?! Why are you here?"

"I've been here the whole time," Queenie said flatly.

Alice's face turned pale.

It finally hit her—John had set her up.

She stammered, "I-I thought you weren't here! I only came back from New York to keep an eye on John in case he... you know... messed around with Emily Wood next door!"

John added dryly, "Emily went back to visit her family today. She's not even home."

Alice snapped, "Shut up!"

Then John smirked and said to Queenie, "I'd like to report that Alice wasn't being very honest. I casually hinted at cultivation, and she immediately jumped at the chance. She begged me to assist her. You know, with all the sequelae involved..."

"Shut up!"

This time it wasn't Alice—it was Queenie.

She glared at John, face flushed red, teeth clenched.

Clearly, she'd remembered what had happened earlier and caught the hidden meaning in John's words.

"Alice, come to bed with me. Leave this bastard alone."

"You're right. I don't want to talk to him anymore!"

The two sisters turned their combined wrath on John.

Alice wasn't even sure why Queenie was siding with her this time. Shouldn't she be mad at her?

Whatever.

If they had a common enemy, she'd gladly join the team.

John tried one last time, desperate:

"Wait, Queenie—it's still early! We haven't even had dinner yet. Did you eat? Why don't we all eat together—"

BANG!

The bedroom door slammed shut in his face.

Great.

That went well.

John stood there for a moment, alone.

Then he muttered darkly, "Two beautiful women... and I'm sleeping on the sofa tonight?"

He glanced toward the window.

"...Fine. Guess I'll just climb into Emily's room next door."

John grinned to himself.

Smart guys always have backup plans.