Chapter 55 Seizing Power, Clio Goes Mad
"Divorce your wife?" Patrick froze, nearly dropping the pen in his hand. He slowly lowered his head, his gaze falling on the spread-out parchment, his expression full of hesitation.
Cressida stood where she was, her tone measured: "Mother was so jealous of Sable that she deliberately set a fire to frame her, trying to drive her out of the estate. Father, you're the master of this manor. Just because you favor your lover, Mother dared to use such vicious methods. Today she can scheme against Sable—if someone else angers her tomorrow, can you guarantee you won't be the next target?"
Patrick's body visibly trembled. Being manipulated by Clio like this naturally made him furious, but "divorce" was too serious a matter. Without solid evidence to show publicly, he would only become a laughingstock among the nobles.
He instinctively backed down, his tone carrying some resentment toward Cressida: "Your mother and I have been married for many years. Even if she's done wrong, you should at least say a few words on her behalf."
"Mother's actions have already endangered your safety. She even lied about your leg injury being incurable. If I still defend her at a time like this, can I even call myself your daughter?" Cressida leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharp. "Father, think carefully—in this household, if even I don't stand on your side, who else truly cares about you? Rose and Michael have always obeyed Mother completely. Just now Michael even wanted to take the blame for Rose, which shows they don't consider you, the head of the family, at all."
These words struck right at Patrick's heart. His expression softened slightly, and he cursed: "Michael, that fool! How did I end up with a son who can't tell what's important!"
After cursing, Patrick changed the subject but still wouldn't give in: "Divorce is still too serious. I want to give your mother another chance."
Cressida nodded inwardly—this was exactly the result she wanted. She immediately followed Patrick's lead: "Since Father values your past relationship, then let Mother rest and recover. Why not have her temporarily hand over the household management authority? Consider it a lesson for her."
"How can that work?" Patrick immediately objected. "Your mother is the lady of the manor. Without her managing the household, should I have you, an unmarried girl, do it?"
"I'm not yet married, so it's indeed inappropriate." A faint smile appeared on Cressida's lips. "But isn't Mabel still at the manor?"
Patrick instantly froze: "You mean Mabel? Forget it. If you go begging her, she'd be more likely to throw you out. Years ago, she personally blocked up the corridor connecting our two courtyards, making it clear she didn't want to get involved in our affairs."
"For you, Father, I wouldn't hesitate to humble myself or even go to war—what's a little humiliation?" Cressida's tone was firm. "Donny is honest by nature, and his status is far below yours. If Mabel manages the household, she'll be most afraid of being accused of favoritism, so she'll definitely be fair and impartial. Besides, we've never actually divided the family—she's the one who cut off contact. Now if we reopen the corridor, outsiders will only praise our family harmony. Isn't Reid's family living well over there?"
Patrick frowned and pondered, finding more and more sense in Cressida's words.
"Moreover, letting Mabel temporarily manage things will give Mother time to reflect quietly. It's a warning from you. When you've calmed down, you can return the authority to her. Wouldn't that be perfect?" Cressida added at just the right moment.
Patrick didn't really care who managed the household, as long as they didn't cause him trouble or damage his reputation. He immediately nodded: "If you can really convince Mabel, go ahead and do it."
"In that case, I need to go to Mother first to retrieve the household keys and tokens. Please send someone to back me up, Father."
"Noah!" Patrick shouted toward the door. "Come in! Go with Cressida to see Clio. Have Clio hand over the management tokens. Tell her it's my order!"
Noah hurried in, glancing at Cressida in surprise. Everyone knew Cressida had never been valued at the manor, yet now she had earned Patrick's trust. Not daring to ask questions, he quickly responded: "Yes."
Just then, the maid Echo walked in carrying a medicine bowl. Cressida stopped her and had her approach the bed.
"Father, this is my personal maid Echo. She's quick and careful. I'll leave her here to serve you."
Echo wore her hair in braids and a green short jacket. She looked fresh-faced and respectfully curtsied: "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hamilton."
Patrick, seeing her proper manners, nodded with satisfaction and waved at Cressida: "Go on then."
In the courtyard of the main house where Clio lived, sharp cursing could be heard from far away: "Get out! All of you get out! I'm not dead yet, and she already dares to covet my household authority—that jinx!"
Noah stumbled out of the room clutching his head, blood still on his temple—clearly he'd been hit by something. He looked helplessly at Cressida: "Ms. Cressida Hamilton, Mrs. Clio Hamilton, she... she refuses to hand over the tokens."
Cressida had expected this. She signaled for the maid Emma to slip Noah some money, saying calmly: "I'll persuade Mother myself. If we can't complete Father's task, neither of us can escape blame."
Noah quickly tried to refuse, but Emma stuffed the money into his hand. Cressida continued: "Take people and restrain Mother's maids, Tatum and the others. Have Emma help you. If anyone resists, subdue them by force. If anyone objects, tell them to come find me."
Noah hesitated: "Won't... won't that be too obvious?"
"Father and Mother are both upset right now. If you keep hesitating, how can you deserve to be the steward?" Cressida's gaze hardened with undeniable authority.
Thinking of Patrick's trust in Cressida earlier, Noah felt a chill and immediately straightened up: "I'll do it right away!"
Soon, Noah led several guards in forcibly escorting Tatum and the others out. As they passed Cressida, Tatum, who had been cursing loudly moments ago, fell silent, her head bowed low, not daring to meet her eyes.
Cressida lifted the curtain and walked inside alone. The scene before her made her pause slightly. Clio, who came from a family of civil officials and always valued propriety, carrying herself with scholarly dignity—now her hair was disheveled, her eyes fierce as a wolf's, looking like a madwoman who'd lost all reason.
"Cressida! You little bitch!" Clio screamed when she saw her. "I'm not dead yet, and you can't wait to seize my authority! You're a jinx! You killed my son!"
Clio grabbed a cup from the table and lunged at Cressida. Cressida moved nimbly, dodging to the side while firmly grasping Clio's wrist. With a gentle push, she sent her stumbling backward.
Clio crashed heavily into the footstool and fell to the floor, gasping for breath.
"Mother, on the battlefield, anyone who dared attack me like that is already a corpse." Cressida's voice was ice-cold.
"Then kill me if you can!" Clio cursed, but tears came first. "I regret it so much! When I was pregnant with you, the midwife said you were stealing your brother's nutrition in my belly—that you were a demon reborn. The day you were born, the Wolf Star appeared. Everyone said you were an evil star, destined to love war and killing. I should have listened to the midwife and strangled you right then!"
Clio beat her own chest, crying bitterly: "I've thought countless times—why wasn't it you who died? Why did it have to be my son? Cressida, you're just a heartless monster! Before you turned fourteen, when did I ever mistreat you? Now you want to drive me to death—what gives you the right!"
Cressida stood quietly to the side, watching Clio's breakdown. Memories from her past life flooded back. Cressida had once been completely obedient to this family, letting Rose steal Cressida's identity and glory, watching the family rise step by step on Cressida's military achievements, only to end up being fed muting drugs and having her limbs broken. Back then, Cressida had rolled and struggled on the ground, probably looking even worse than Clio did now. But Patrick and Clio had shown not a trace of mercy.
When Clio's crying gradually subsided, Cressida finally spoke slowly: "Mother, I'm giving you two choices. Either you voluntarily hand over the household keys and tokens, or I'll announce publicly that you've had a mental breakdown and need rest, and then send people to take over the household anyway. Your choice."
Clio, who had been hysterical moments ago, suddenly fell quiet. She lifted her tear-stained face, glaring viciously at Cressida. But Cressida stood there, posture straight, eyes deep—containing only ambition and determination, not a shred of mother-daughter affection. Clio's heart sank bit by bit.