I transmigrated and got a husband and a son!-Chapter 1153: Real and only owner of the house

Meanwhile, a middle-aged woman stood on the balcony of a castle on a secluded island. A satisfied smile reigned on her face, enjoying a glass of wine while inhaling the cool night breeze.

"Isn’t tonight a wonderful night, Nigel?" she spoke even before the person who came from behind her could talk. "Today’s weather was also good and everything for the entire day was perfect. It’s as if the heaven is on my side."

The man, around the age of his early 40’s, lowered his head. "We received word from the unit you deployed to the Reaper’s base."

"Did they kill Hera Cruel?"

"No."

"She wasn’t there." The madam smirked. "Of course, they won’t kill her. How many casualties?"

"Fifty."

The madam arched a brow, looking back at the head butler of the Oxley Family. "That’s quite the number. There were around 80 members of the Reapers stationed at their base, don’t they?"

"Fifty casualties, Madam, all ours." Nigel kept his eyes downcast, his tone still the same. "Our forces were wiped out, Madam. Or so, according to the lack of reports. We never heard from them since they stepped into the Reaper’s territory."

The smile on the Madam’s face disappeared, replaced with nothing but a layer of frost.

"A surprise attack and they were all wiped out?" the madam hissed, turning her back on him. "Our soldiers surely are incompetent. Or was it just that my beloved niece trained hers well?"

"I hadn’t heard the complete report just yet," said Nigel. "But Madam, if this goes on, we might be put in a tough situation. The other families are already pressuring us. Any more of this failure —"

"Failure?" the Madam snorted. "You call this a failure?"

Nigel pressed his lips together. "I’m sorry."

"Felice is a pain in the neck when she was alive, and even more so in death." The Madam let out a deep exhale. "She and Vicenzo raised a monster of a child. I’m torn between being impressed or irritated."

Nigel remained quiet, keeping his thoughts to himself. However, his silence was still loud enough for the madam to know the man’s sentiments.

"What do you want to say, Nigel?" the madam glanced over her shoulder. "Say it. My mood is already ruined. Hearing more of the bad news won’t change it."

"Madam, was it necessary to make Hera Cruel our enemy?" asked the butler quietly, but sternly. "She had beaten the odds many times and showed us she was more than useful to be an ally than an enemy. If we left her alone, she wouldn’t have found out about the Oxley Family."

"Are you saying it is my fault that we now have a target on our back?"

Nigel didn’t say anything, but if he was going to be honest, the answer was obvious. Hera Cruel had been on to people who killed her mother, and none of them so far pointed to the Oxley Family. But because Florence, the madam, Hera was close to uncovering her parentage.

"You said it yourself, Nigel," the madam said. "She had beaten the odds many times. In other words, even if we left her alone, she would eventually find us. That little girl pledged to kill everyone who was involved in Felice’s death. We might as well pluck out the bud before it fully grows."

"I believe Hera Cruel is the only flower that bloomed in hell so spectacularly."

The madam slowly turned and faced Nigel. "Are you having second thoughts about me now, Nigel?"

"No, Madam. I am simply stating the truth," Nigel remained composed, lifting his eyes to the madam. "More than I am concerned about Hera Cruel, the four families had been onto our family. I’m worried that they would go out of their way to find the real and only owner of the house."

The second those words rolled out of Nigel’s tongue, the wine glass flew in his direction. Blood instantly trickled down Nigel’s temple, but the man didn’t even budge. He let droplets of blood fall on his shoulder and on the floor.

Agitated, the madam scoffed at him. "The real and only owner of the house? Nigel, it seemed your loyalty to Felice is rooted in you deeper than I thought."

Nigel didn’t speak, nor did he try to defend himself. Although he was simply trying to be true to their situation, it was a topic the madam was very sensitive about.

"I am not loyal to the late Madam Felice, but I pledged my loyalty to the Oxley Family," said Nigel as a reminder, not as a defense or excuse. "I’m merely concerned about the four families and what scheme they had been preparing. I’m reminding the Madam about this since you’ve been preoccupied with Hera Cruel."

"Even if the four families joined hand in hand, they wouldn’t be able to come close. Let alone, leave a dent in my house." The madam turned her back on him, resting her hands on the railing. "And it is I who is keeping Hera Cruel preoccupied and not the other way around. I am no longer in the mood. You are dismissed."

Nigel stared at the madam’s back for a while before he lowered his head. "The private plane will arrive at dawn. I’ll return again."

After saying his piece, Nigel left the madam on the balcony. Before he could leave, he cast the madam one last look. A shallow breath slipped past his nostrils, walking out of the bedroom. The moment Nigel closed the door behind him, a young lady was already standing outside the bedroom.

"Young lady," called Nigel quietly. "Your mother isn’t in a good mood right now."

The young lady looked a little frail, with long black hair, a pale complexion, a timid aura, but eyes like a phoenix. A signature trait that the Oxley descent carried. She gazed at the blood on his forehead, making him touch his wound.

"This is nothing, my lady."

"Did she throw another bottle at you again?" asked the young lady worriedly. "You should’ve dodged it."

Nigel just smiled at the young miss. "I am alright, my lady. What are you doing here? If you want to tell the Madam something, please do so once she comes back."

"I didn’t come here for her," the young lady spoke, her voice meek. "I came here for you, Nigel."

"What is it that I can help you with, my lady?"

The young lady pursed her lips as she glanced at her mother’s door. Seeing her reaction, Nigel sighed and smiled.

"Very well," said Nigel. "I’ll walk you back to your room." freewebnøvel.coɱ

"Thank you," the young lady smiled meekly, following Nigel through the ridiculously grand corridor of the castle. When they reached a room opposite the side of Florence’s wing, the young lady faced the head butler.

"Nigel," she spoke, clasping her hands together. "I want to meet my cousin. Hera Cruel, isn’t that her name?"

"My Lady, I do not think that would make your mother happy."

The young lady cast her eyes down. "Nothing makes her happy, Nigel. The fact that her good-for-nothing of a daughter is still breathing already upsets her."

"My lady."

"I have to talk to Hera Cruel," the young lady looked up at him, this time, her eyes swirled with determination. "If not, our Oxley Family is done for. The madam had already caused too much unnecessary bloodshed. We are not each other’s enemies, we are family, are we not?"

Nigel smiled at the young lady helplessly. "I’m sorry, My Lady."

"Nigel."

"I understand your intentions, but your mother will punish you if she finds out you met with Hera Cruel," Nigel sighed for the umpteenth time. "But I’ll try to contact Hera Cruel and relay your message. I promise."