Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts-Chapter 23 - Twenty Three

Isabel turned her head and looked directly at Camilla again. She did not try to hide her stare this time. She looked at Camilla with pure accusation.

"The General suffered a very big loss this time," Isabel spoke loudly, directing her words right at Camilla. "A loss that could only happen if a traitor was sleeping right under his roof."

The room went quiet. Isabel had just openly accused the Lady of the house of being a spy and a traitor.

Camilla listened to Isabel’s dramatic speech. She did not look offended.

Instead, a slow, dark smirk appeared on Camilla’s face. The corners of her lips curled up. She found this entire situation completely hilarious. Isabel was delivering the exact plot of the novel right to her feet.

Camilla tilted her head slightly. She looked Isabel right in the eye.

"Is that so?" Camilla asked out loud. Her voice was smooth, calm, and completely unbothered.

Isabel was shocked by Camilla’s calm reaction. She found Camilla’s reaction insulting. She felt a flash of anger, but she quickly hid it. She scoffed out loud, a short, arrogant sound of disbelief. She turned her body away from Camilla and faced Damon again. She needed to pretend she was fair and just.

"However," Isabel said quickly, putting her sweet, innocent voice back on. She waved her hand in the air as if dismissing the thought. "I believe all these terrible things have absolutely nothing to do with Lady Camilla. She is your wife, after all. I am sure she would never do such a horrible, wicked thing to the man she loves so much. Right?"

Isabel smiled sweetly, but her words were dripping with pure poison. By bringing up the accusation and then weakly denying it, she was making sure Damon suspected Camilla even more. It was a classic, dirty trick.

Damon sat against his pillows. He watched the entire exchange.

He looked at Isabel’s sweet smile. He looked at her innocent eyes. Because he could hear Camilla’s thoughts, he now saw Isabel clearly. He saw the fake smile. He saw the calculated glances. He saw the hidden poison in her words.

"Camilla is right," Damon thought to himself. His eyes turned cold and hard as he stared at Isabel. "She does sound exactly like a manipulative, scheming woman. She came into my private room just to plant lies and cause trouble. She is trying to turn me against my own household."

While Damon was realizing the truth about Isabel, Camilla was having a completely different realization.

Camilla stood by the bedside table. She looked at Isabel, and then she looked at Damon’s serious face.

Suddenly, a brilliant, glowing idea popped up inside Camilla’s head.

"Wait a minute," Camilla thought, her internal voice suddenly filling with pure excitement.

Damon flinched slightly at the sudden loud, happy tone in his head. He looked over at his wife.

"Isabel is slandering me right to his face," Camilla’s thoughts raced rapidly. She was putting the puzzle pieces together. "She is literally accusing me of being a spy who sold his military secrets. She is painting me as the ultimate villain!"

Camilla’s dark eyes began to sparkle with joy. She clasped her hands together tightly.

"I should put this to good use!" Camilla declared in her mind.

Inside her head, she squealed like a happy, excited little puppy who had just been given a huge bone.

Eeeeek!

The sound echoed loudly inside Damon’s brain. Damon rubbed his forehead. He had never heard a grown woman squeal like that, not even in his thoughts.

"This is absolutely perfect," Camilla continued her mental celebration. "I have been trying to make him hate me all morning. I offered him salty porridge. I annoyed him. But this? This is treason! This is the ultimate crime!"

She looked at Damon. He was looking down, deep in thought.

"He is a general," Camilla reasoned happily. "He hates traitors more than anything in the world. After hearing these terrible allegations from Isabel, he must be completely furious with me! He probably wants to throw me out of the house right this very second!"

Camilla nodded her head. Her plan was coming together flawlessly.

"He should be more than ready to sign the divorce papers with me by now," Camilla thought confidently. "In fact, he will probably sign them so fast his hand will catch fire. I just need to give him the papers right now while he is still angry about the lost land!"

Camilla did not waste another second.

She spun around quickly. Her dress swirled around her legs. She completely ignored Isabel, who was still standing at the foot of the bed.

Camilla rushed across the large bedroom. She moved with purpose. She walked directly toward a large desk sitting near the glass windows.

Damon watched her move. He was completely confused. He knew she was happy because of her internal puppy squeals, but he did not know what she was going to do next. He watched her start searching through the items on his desk.

"Where are they? Where are they?" Camilla muttered softly out loud, moving a stack of military maps and a silver inkwell.

Then, she saw them. Resting neatly on the corner of the wooden desk was the thick stack of white papers with the large red wax seal.

The divorce agreement.

Camilla smiled brightly. She reached out and took the papers in her hands. She gripped them tightly. This was her ticket to freedom. This was her ticket to the Maldives.

She turned around and walked quickly back to the bed.

She stood directly in front of Damon. She stood right next to his injured leg, blocking Isabel from his view. She held the thick divorce papers in her right hand.

Now, she needed to complete her performance. If she smiled while handing him the divorce papers, he might get suspicious. She needed to look like a heartbroken, falsely accused wife who was accepting her tragic fate.

She needed to cry. Real tears this time. Not the water drops she used earlier.

Camilla took a deep breath. She closed her eyes tightly for a second. She needed to think of something truly sad. She needed to pull a painful memory from deep inside her heart.

She thought about her beautiful, modern house. She thought about her swimming pool.

And then, she thought about her cat.

She remembered her fat, orange tabby cat, Winston. She remembered how he used to walk slowly across the living room floor. She remembered how his bright orange fur looked under the warm afternoon sun. She remembered how he would meow at her when he was hungry, and how he would stretch out under the patio umbrella to sleep. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

She missed him. She missed him so much it actually hurt her chest. She was stuck in this strange, cold world with angry maids and a grumpy general, and Winston was probably all alone, waiting by the glass door for her to come back and feed him.

The image of her lonely fat cat waiting for his dinner was too much for her to handle.

A sharp pain hit the back of her throat. Real, warm tears immediately pooled in her eyes.

Camilla opened her eyes. The tears spilled over her bottom lashes. They rolled slowly down her pale cheeks. Her chin began to tremble. Her nose turned a little bit red. It was a picture of perfect, genuine sorrow.

She looked down at Damon. Her eyes were shining with real tears.

"My Lord," Camilla whispered out loud. Her voice cracked and shook with genuine emotion. She sniffed loudly.

She raised her trembling right hand. She held the thick stack of divorce papers out toward his chest.