The Billionaire Twins Need A New Mommy!-Chapter 791: It was supposed to be fake, right?

It was true that the leaders of the founding families never got along. Their differing perspectives and strong personalities always led to clashes. However, if there was one thing they had in common, it was that they would never want their families and houses to fall so pathetically.

Not against a scheming bastard like the cardinal.

They would all rather lose everything in a deadly war than fall to this kind of scheme without putting up a fight.

"Your trick was good. But you could have tried harder, Cardinal. After all, the war you wanted was... against the rest of the founding families. You shouldn’t have looked down on these two."

Marceline and Draken smirked proudly. But then her smile faded as she looked at Atlas with displeasure.

"Atlas, I told you I’d play along. However, you didn’t have to smack my neck like that," she hissed, reminded of the stiffness in her nape. "I’m still undecided about how I’ll deal with that."

During Marceline and Atlas’s meeting, they communicated the same way he did with his siblings. In that exchange, she agreed to take on a pitiful role. She agreed to act as though she had been knocked unconscious and taken hostage.

It was supposed to be fake, right? But Atlas just had to hit her hard enough to knock her out genuinely.

"Hah!" Draken laughed as he leaned forward, eyeing Atlas as if the latter were under interrogation. "Hey, Atlas, even though I agreed with Yuri, you should’ve told my nephew to hold back a little — eh? That nephew of mine thinks he’s a big boy now and can take me on."

As for Draken, since he was aware of the general scheme thanks to Yuri, he had been gathering the so-called spies the church had planted in his territory. So when Baby arrived, he sent most of them to stop him. It was more efficient to deal with them that way without spoiling their plan.

The rest, whom he didn’t send, were meant to report the attack to the church. Once they confirmed that Atlas had launched his attack on the tribe, Draken dealt with them right away.

But even though Draken had been aware, his brief brawl with Baby was real — too real. Well, what could he say? He had missed his nephew, and as men of the Talmaru, a deadly sparring match was a must. Baby did a good number on him, and Draken just happily laughed it off.

"Still, that boy truly has grown," he nodded approvingly. "Though he would still need a thousand years to surpass me — hahaha!"

Marceline looked at him with disgust but didn’t voice her thoughts. The thing was, even though Draken was drenched in blood, only a few of it was his. But even if it were, he would still act the same, as if blood loss were no big deal.

"In any case," Draken trailed off as he whipped his head toward the other end of the table. He crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of it. "The cardinal really thinks that all you need is the Order to take us both down, huh? Quite insulting."

He clicked his tongue and snapped his gaze at Iris. "Henrik might be as sly as a fox, and his greed insatiable, but he’s the head of the Bellemonte House and has held his ground despite the Bellemonte’s weakening military power for a reason, Young lady."

Unlike his earlier rogue manner of speaking, Draken now sounded calmer. Yet his low, steady voice only made Iris tense up even more.

"Just because he’s not around, you think taking his seat is that easy?" Marceline snorted, side-eyeing Iris. "Young lady, anyone can take these seats wherever they want. The only question is whether they can last until the end of the first meeting."

Iris opened and closed her mouth, her complexion pale. Unlike earlier, Marceline and Draken sounded calm. But their calmer tones only made her tremble. Adding Atlas’s intense gaze on her, she had to clasp her hands into fists to stop herself from running. Even when her entire soul was screaming at her to flee, and that their plan had already failed.

"Cardinal," she blurted, whipping her head toward the end of the table.

The cardinal held his breath as his shoulders tensed, his eyes darting between the people around the table.

Farah, standing right next to him, reached for the handgun at her side. But then...

Screech!

A mic’s feedback echoed through the premises, making everyone instinctively reach for their ears.

"Ahem! Ahem! What the fuck is wrong with this place?!"

Confusion spread across their faces at the voice booming from the speakers, and they looked around. Then Vito’s voice followed.

"FARAH! You fucking bitch—hah! I, Vito, the magnificent king of the underworld, am here to deliver you to hell! Don’t make me look for you! This place is so damn weird and confusing! Just come here! Let’s try killing each other!"

Those who didn’t know Vito wondered who this guy was — someone who had apparently hijacked the broadcast room meant for prayers and important announcements to the church members. But those who recognized him, like Farah?

Her eyes dilated as her breath hitched, instinctively looking up.

Marceline furrowed her brows at Farah’s reaction, then glanced at Atlas. He didn’t seem surprised, telling her that whoever this brave young lad was, he was someone Atlas had expected.

"Farah," the cardinal called quietly, keeping his gaze on the people around the table. "Deal with him."

Farah shifted her eyes to the cardinal. "But, Cardinal—"

"Deal with him," he cut in, shooting her a side-eye before meeting everyone else’s gaze. "Don’t worry about me. Our conversation isn’t over yet."

Reluctance flickered in Farah’s eyes, but seeing the determination on the cardinal’s face, she relented. Sighing heavily, she straightened up. Without a word, she walked away, half-expecting one of the founding families to stop her.

But even when she paused by the door and glanced back, all she saw was Marceline’s brief side-eye and the faint smirk on her face.

Farah’s breath trembled, but she didn’t dwell on it. She turned away and resumed her steps outside.

Farah didn’t want to think much about the look Marceline had given her.

But she would soon realize why Marceline had looked so smug.

Once she saw that all the founding families’ forces, led by Henrik, had surrounded the holy grounds.