Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts-Chapter 41 - Forty One

Near the entrance of the long stone hallway, Kade slowly stopped Damon’s large wooden wheelchair. The metal wheels squeaked softly against the polished floor and then came to a complete halt.

Damon sat in the chair. His shirt looked neat, and his broad shoulders were set straight. His dark eyes were fixed directly on Camilla. He was watching the entire scene. He had seen her hand raised. He saw the bold maid bleeding on the floor.

Camilla slowly lowered her hand to her side.

"Oh no," Camilla thought to herself. Her mind worked at lightning speed. Her internal voice was completely panicked, but her face remained blank. "My weak persona is ruined. I have been playing the sad, crying wife this entire time. If he sees me beating a maid to a pulp, he will know I am not a helpless victim. I need to salvage the situation. Right now."

Camilla did not waste a single second. She moved so fast that the other terrified maids standing against the wall could barely see what she did.

She bent down quickly. She grabbed the bold maid’s limp right hand.

Before the dazed maid could even understand what was happening, Camilla swung the maid’s hand upward.

Smack!

Camilla forcefully smacked the maid’s hand directly across her own pale cheek. She hit herself hard enough to leave a red mark, making it look exactly like the maid had reached up and struck the Lady of the house.

The bold maid’s eyes widened in sheer, absolute confusion. Her brain was too beaten and foggy to process the trick.

Camilla immediately let go of the girl’s hand. She shoved the bleeding maid aside. The girl rolled over onto the marble floor, completely helpless.

Camilla stepped back quickly. She raised her own small hands and covered her face. She pushed her bottom lip out in a massive, trembling pout. She shook her hands violently in the air, acting as if her delicate fingers were hurting from trying to block the maid’s vicious attack.

She forced tears into her eyes.

"My Lord," Camilla cried out. Her voice was incredibly pitiful. It shook with fake fear and heavy sadness. She sounded exactly like a frightened little bird.

Damon sat perfectly still in his wheelchair. He watched her approach him. He had seen her grab the maid’s hand. He had heard her internal panic. He knew exactly what she did.

"What does she want to do now?" Damon thought to himself. He kept his face completely serious, but his mind was deeply curious. He had never met a woman who could switch from a ruthless attacker to a crying victim in less than three seconds.

Camilla hurried across the marble floor. Her dark red silk dress flowed behind her. She reached the large wooden wheelchair.

She bent down gracefully, bending her knees so she was closer to his level. She reached out her small, shaking hands and gently touched Damon’s strong arm.

"Why are you so late?" Camilla sniffed loudly. She looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. She sounded like a wife who had been waiting for her hero to save her.

She turned her head and pointed a trembling, delicate finger at the bruised, bleeding maid lying on the floor.

"She hit me," Camilla whimpered, her voice cracking perfectly. She turned back to Damon and pointed to the small, slightly red mark on her own perfectly clean cheek. "Look. It hurts so much."

She grabbed Damon’s sleeve, pulling on the dark fabric like a scared child.

"I was so terrified," Camilla continued to cry. "She attacked me for no reason. I thought she would kill me right here in the hallway. You are my husband. You must stand up for me!"

Damon stared at her. He looked at her fake tears. He listened to her pitiful voice.

Then, the loud, clear voice inside his head spoke up.

Inside her mind, Camilla was holding her stomach and laughing uncontrollably. She found her own acting absolutely hilarious.

"Stand up! Hahaha!" Camilla laughed in her mind. Her internal voice was rolling on the floor with pure joy. "I kill myself! ’You must stand up for me’—to a man in a wheelchair! You are too good, Camilla. Dark humor at its finest! I deserve a golden trophy for that line alone."

Damon heard her loud, mental laughter. He felt a sudden, strange tickle in his throat. He had to fight the urge to cough.

Damon cleared his throat loudly.

Ahem.

He looked away from her fake, crying face. He looked at the scene in the middle of the foyer.

He analyzed the battlefield. The bold maid was lying on the floor. Her nose was bleeding heavily, staining her white apron red. Both sides of her face were swollen like massive balloons. She was clearly and obviously disfigured by a very severe beating.

Then, Damon looked back down at Camilla. She was kneeling next to his chair, shedding soft tears over a tiny, barely visible redness on her cheek.

The contrast was absolutely ridiculous. Any normal person with eyes could see that Camilla had completely destroyed the maid, not the other way around.

But Damon was a smart and intelligent man. He knew the maid had insulted his wife. He knew the maid was loyal to Mrs. Ida. And most importantly, he knew he could not expose Camilla’s lie without admitting that he could read her thoughts.

Damon kept his face completely blank and cold. He decided to play along with her terrible, dramatic act.

He turned his head slightly and looked at his aide.

"Send her out," Damon ordered quietly.

Kade nodded his head. He did not ask questions. He walked forward, his boots clicking loudly against the marble floor. He reached the bleeding maid. He reached down and grabbed the girl roughly by her arms, pulling her up from the floor.

The bold maid finally realized what was happening. She was being thrown out of the mansion.

"No! Please!" the maid began to beg. She struggled weakly in Kade’s strong grip. Blood dripped from her nose onto her chin. "My Lord, please forgive me! I was wrong! I will never speak again!"

Kade ignored her cries. He began to drag her firmly toward the heavy front doors.

"My Lord! My Lord!" the maid screamed, looking back at Damon with terrified eyes. "Please! I have nowhere else to go! Do not throw me into the streets!"

The heavy front doors opened. Kade dragged the crying girl outside and threw her out into the dirt of the courtyard. The doors closed firmly with a loud boom, cutting off her desperate screams completely.

The grand foyer was quiet again.

Camilla stayed kneeling by Damon’s wheelchair. Outwardly, she kept her bottom lip pouted. She kept her eyes looking sad and frightened.

But inside her head, she smiled a massive, wicked smile.

"That is better," Camilla smirked in her thoughts. She felt very satisfied that the annoying girl was gone.