Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts-Chapter 25 - Twenty Five

The silence in the room was deafening.

Isabel looked like she wanted to scream. Her hands curled into tight fists at her sides. Her entire plan had just been destroyed right in front of her eyes.

Camilla stood frozen by the wall. Her brain completely stopped working for a few seconds. She stared at the tiny pieces of white paper resting on his blankets. That was her ticket. That was her freedom. And he had just ripped it into trash.

"You..." Camilla thought to herself. Her internal voice was no longer happy. It was shaking with pure, unadulterated rage and deep despair.

"You do not even like me!" Camilla screamed inside her head. The mental shout was so loud that Damon actually flinched slightly. "You hate me! You wanted this divorce yesterday! Why aren’t you following the plot? This is not how the story is supposed to go! You are supposed to throw the money at my face and tell me to get out!"

Camilla felt a sharp sting in her eyes. The fake tears from earlier had dried up. But now, a fresh wave of water flooded her eyes.

This time, she did not need to think about her fat cat, Winston. She did not need to force herself to be sad.

Now, real, genuine tears flooded from Camilla’s eyes. They were tears of pure frustration, anger, and absolute defeat. They rolled hot and fast down her cheeks. She sniffed loudly, her shoulders shaking for real this time.

Damon watched her cry. He could hear her mental breakdown. He knew she was devastated that her plan had failed. And for some strange reason, seeing her true frustration made him feel a small sense of victory. He had outsmarted her.

Damon tilted his head. He looked at her wet, crying face. He decided to play her own game against her.

"My dear wife," Damon asked sweetly, forcing his voice to sound gentle and confused. "Why are you crying now? I just gave you exactly what you asked for. I did not sign the divorce away. We are staying together."

Camilla wanted to pick up the heavy ceramic porridge bowl and throw it directly at his smug, handsome face. She wanted to scream at him.

But she remembered her role. Isabel was still in the room watching them. If Camilla showed her true anger, her entire "loving wife" act would be ruined. She had to maintain her cover.

Camilla took a deep, shaky breath. She bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

She tried her hardest to force a smile onto her face. It was a very painful, very ugly smile. It looked more like a grimace of pain.

"It’s..." Camilla started to say, her voice cracking heavily. She wiped a real tear off her cheek. "It is tears of joy, My Lord."

She forced her painful smile to grow a little wider. It hurt her facial muscles.

"I am just..." Camilla continued, sniffing loudly. "I am overwhelmed with happiness. Truly. I am so happy that my heart might just explode."

Inside her head, she added, "Why won’t I cry? You ruined my vacation."

Damon heard her thoughts. He had to bite the inside of his own cheek to stop himself from laughing out loud.

Before Damon could respond to her "tears of joy," a sharp sound came from the hallway.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of three firm knocks hit the door.

"General Damon?" an older man’s voice called out from the other side of the wood. It was a respectful, serious voice. "It is Doctor Aris. I have arrived for your morning examination."

Damon immediately dropped his smug smirk. His face returned to its normal, cold, military expression. He brushed the last few pieces of torn paper off his blankets.

"Come in," Damon commanded loudly.

The doors were pushed open by the two guards. An older man with a thick white beard walked into the bedroom. He wore a long, dark brown coat and carried a large, worn leather medical bag.

Doctor Aris stopped just inside the room. He looked at the three people. He saw Isabel, looking furious and sad in her pink dress. He saw Lady Camilla, crying and forcing a strange smile. And he saw the General sitting in bed surrounded by tiny pieces of torn paper.

The doctor was a smart man. He had worked in noble houses for years. He knew when to ignore family drama.

Doctor Aris cleared his throat politely. He turned to Camilla and bowed his head slightly.

"My Lady," the doctor said respectfully. Then he turned to Isabel and nodded. "Miss Isabel. Please, I need both of you to step out into the hallway. I need to examine the General’s broken leg and change his bandages. It is not a pleasant sight, and he requires privacy."

Camilla sniffed one last time. She was actually very glad to have an excuse to leave the room. She needed to get away from Damon before she lost her temper completely.

"Of course, Doctor," Camilla said out loud, nodding her head politely. She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand.

Isabel also realized she had no reason to stay. Her plan was ruined, and the doctor was kicking her out. She smoothed down her pink dress again, trying to regain some of her lost dignity.

Isabel walked toward the door. As she passed the foot of the bed, she stopped and looked at Damon. She put her sweet, innocent face back on for one final moment.

"Take care of yourself, My Lord," Isabel spoke softly, her voice full of fake care. "I will pray for your quick recovery. Please do not let the traitors in this house cause you any more stress."

Damon did not answer her. He just stared at the wall, ignoring her completely.

Isabel felt a flush of embarrassment. She turned away and walked toward the exit. As she passed Camilla near the small bedside table, Isabel’s sweet face vanished.

She leaned close to Camilla. Her eyes were cold and hard.

"Lady Camilla," Isabel whispered sharply, making sure only Camilla could hear her. "We need to talk. Right now."

Camilla stopped wiping her tears. She dropped her hand. She looked at Isabel’s angry, jealous face.

Camilla slowly rolled her dark eyes toward the ceiling. She let out a soft sigh of pure annoyance. "More drama," she thought to herself.

But out loud, Camilla completely ignored Isabel’s threat. She turned her body back to the bed. She put her fake, loving smile back on her face.

She looked directly at Damon.

"My Lord," Camilla spoke, making her voice sound incredibly sweet and devoted. She played the part of the perfect, loving wife flawlessly. "I will step out for some minutes so the doctor can work. I will be waiting right outside. If you need anything, absolutely anything at all, you can send for me."

She raised her right hand. She kissed the tips of her fingers gently. Then, she blew the kiss across the room directly toward Damon.

Damon stared at her. He watched her blow him a fake kiss while he listened to her internal voice groan with disgust. He shook his head slightly, completely exhausted by her endless acting.

Camilla lowered her hand. She turned around and walked toward the doors.

The moment she turned her back to Damon, her sweet, loving smile instantly dropped off her face. Her expression turned completely serious, cold, and calculated.

The Black Widow assassin was replaced.

She walked out of the bedroom and stepped into the long, cool stone hallway. Isabel was already standing there, waiting for her with crossed arms and a furious glare.

Camilla looked at the young blonde woman. She cracked her knuckles softly. She was very curious to know exactly what kind of trouble Isabel wanted to talk about.