The next morning, when William woke up, he instinctively reached out for the person next to him, but his hand landed on an empty space. He remembered that he had sent off a reluctant Nissa the previous night and brought his mother, Abigail, and Jessie out of the safe room. Heading to the living room, William intended to comfort his slightly worried mother, but Lina only glanced at him with a displeased look. She also noticed Abigail and Jessie forcing awkward smiles despite their clear irritation.
After saying goodnight, Lina went upstairs to her room without further comment.
Once Lina left, Abigail grabbed Jessie's hand and dragged her to her room, leaving William standing there, confused.
For a moment, he scratched his head, and then, as if realizing something, he lifted his arm and sniffed. Immediately, he caught the scent of Nissa's perfume lingering on him. It was obvious that Abigail, Jessie, and even his mother had smelled it too.
Shrugging it off, William understood that Abigail was angry—not necessarily because of jealousy—but likely because he had left them in the safe room, worrying for their safety, while he himself had been indulging in "fun." But this wasn't something he planned to explain, let alone apologize for. He decided to act as though nothing had happened.
After getting up, freshening up, and changing, William went downstairs and saw Jessie sitting alone by the window, wearing headphones while flipping through a colorful art book.
When she noticed him, Jessie first smiled, but her expression quickly shifted, and she lowered her head, pretending to focus on the book.
Heh, definitely Abigail told her not to talk to me, William thought. Shrugging again, he headed to the dining room for breakfast.
While eating, he casually asked Sunday, "Where are my mom and Abigail?"
"They went to Chelsea FC together, SIR."
Sunday added, "The English Premier League winter transfer window has opened. Today, the agents of Buffon and Ronaldo will officially negotiate salaries with the team."
"How much are the transfers costing?" William asked as he enjoyed his breakfast.
"For the five players you requested, the total cost is estimated at £60 million. However, due to the team's recent strong performance, Mourinho's reduction of planned player departures has decreased the transfer cost by £20 million, compared to the original estimate of £80 million."
"So, only £60 million?" William was briefly surprised, but he quickly understood.
The team had quite a few veteran players over thirty. Now that they had access to the healing serum, these experienced players, who were technically skilled but prone to injuries, no longer needed to worry about career-ending injuries. This gave them the confidence to play at their peak for a few more years, which could generate energy and passion far beyond expectations.
Moreover, with a team owner who cared only about results and not money, it was inevitable that success would bring both fame and fortune. Of course, this was what the players believed. In reality, once championships were won, Lina would likely care more about money than William.
After finishing his breakfast, William returned to the living room and saw Jessie, who had been secretly listening to his movements the whole time. He pulled her into a hug and kissed her on the lips. In no time, the girl softened and became obedient.
At noon, when Lina and Abigail returned home, they found William lying on the living room sofa with his head resting on Jessie's lap. He was smiling and saying something that made Jessie giggle quietly.
Lina sighed silently and headed straight to the kitchen, while Abigail shot a glare at the clearly embarrassed Jessie.
William, however, turned and grinned at Abigail, pointing toward a large wooden cabinet in the corner of the living room. "Over there are five paintings worth £200 million. I believe they're by Picasso and Monet. Interested? Feel free to take a look."
"Oh my God," Abigail gasped, her heart racing. She immediately forgot about being mad at Jessie for giving in to William so quickly. Rushing to the cabinet, she grabbed tools and started opening it herself.
When she uncovered the first Monet painting, she exclaimed excitedly, "Oh my God!"
By the time Lina came out to call everyone for lunch, Abigail was already complaining loudly. "William just left £200 million worth of paintings in the living room like this!"
Lina couldn't help but scold him too, "Honestly, William, do you have to be so careless?"
"Alright, alright, let's eat first," William said nonchalantly, holding Jessie's hand as he walked to the dining room. "Who knows, in a few days, we might have even more paintings or antiques worth hundreds or even thousands of years. You'll be plenty busy then."
"Wait a second!" Abigail, forgetting her irritation, quickly caught up to William and grabbed his other arm. Her excitement was palpable as she pressed, "Tell me, what other antiques are there? Otherwise, how can I even eat?"
Dragging Abigail into the dining room, William pressed her down into a chair and sat himself before replying, "I don't know the specifics, but I'm sure this batch of antiques is all from Europe."
Abigail thought for a moment before whispering in William's ear, "You didn't… steal these from someone, did you?"
William twisted her cheek playfully and said with a grin, "Does it matter where they came from? Just tell me if you like them or not. Your job is to check if they're stolen or not. If you keep nagging me, I'll find someone else to handle it."
"Hmph." Abigail glared at him but didn't argue further. She reached under the table and pinched his leg, causing William to wince silently.
Satisfied, Abigail suggested, "Darling, shouldn't we buy a place to store these antiques? Renting the underground vaults at the Bank of England costs £900,000 a month. If we wait for the Devonshire Family Museum to be completed in a year and a half, we'll have spent £15 million just on rent."
Rubbing his sore leg, William grumbled, "You're thinking short-term. That money pays for security and peace of mind. The Bank of England is surrounded by three police stations, and the independent vault system is already under Sunday's control. For now, no place is safer."
"Ha!" Seeing William rubbing his leg, Abigail's mood brightened, and she didn't mind being called short-sighted. She happily discussed football matters with Lina, and after lunch, she became completely engrossed in the five paintings, leaving William to deal with Jessie, who was eagerly chatting about the vineyard.
At 11:30 PM, as William lay in bed, sandwiched between Abigail and Jessie, he suddenly opened his eyes. Quietly freeing himself from Jessie's grasp, he got up, dressed, and went to the first-floor living room.
After waiting for about ten minutes, Sunday reported, "SIR, the vampire envoy has arrived."
Moments later, headlights flashed outside. William walked to the main entrance and saw Selene and an elderly man with white hair stepping out of an old Rolls-Royce.
As soon as the pair stopped, the white-haired man stepped forward and bowed slightly toward William, who stood on the stairs.
"Good evening, Duke Devonshire. I am Thomas, a member of the Vampire Council. It's an honor to meet you."
"Good evening, Mr. Thomas," William replied calmly. "I am William Devonshire, the Hereditary Grand Duke of Oxford, England. Welcome to my estate. Please, come in."
He gestured for Thomas to follow him but made no move to shake hands. Instead, he turned and walked into the mansion without waiting.
Watching William's back, Thomas suddenly grabbed Selene's shoulder and shook his head firmly, giving her a warning look.
Reluctantly, Selene loosened her grip on her gun. But before she could think much of it, a figure emerged from the shadows.
Clad in pitch-black armor with no reflective surfaces, Black Ghost approached. Seeing him, Selene finally understood why Thomas had been so insistent.
Resigned, she handed over her sidearm. As the two prepared to enter the mansion, Black Ghost raised a hand, blocking Thomas. His gaze was fixed intently on something in Thomas' hand.
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