Chapter 183: Vance’s Rebellion

Geoffrey sat in a haze of rage and disbelief, his mind reeling from years of Milton’s interference in the Duke’s estate, often spending nights in Matilda’s chambers. He’d believed it sibling affection. Little did he know it was far fouler, more corrupt than imaginable.

The burning resentment consumed him, the bitter realization that his life, once promising love and power—marrying his dream woman, receiving a noble title—had been utterly destroyed by Prudence. He’d honored her for years, yet she’d torn his life apart, unraveling everything he cherished.

Anger gnawed at him, but slowly, fury yielded to a chilling calm. He’d come to kill Prudence and then himself, atoning for Prunella’s death. But now, a different thought surfaced. He wouldn’t let her die easily. He wanted her to suffer, to endure the torment of knowing her final days would be filled with anguish.

Ryker watched Geoffrey, then spoke softly, “There’s something else.”

Geoffrey looked up, his voice low and cold. “What is it? Speak.”

Ryker replied, “Esme and Noelle have returned. They say Isolde didn’t fall off the cliff. She went to Zloimond to find Doug.”

Geoffrey’s face twisted from fury to stunned disbelief. Slowly, the shock faded into something darker—elation. “Is that true?”

“Absolutely true,” Ryker confirmed. “When Prudence found out Isolde was still alive, she had a stroke and collapsed.”

Geoffrey closed his eyes, his heart racing with wild joy. She’s alive. Isolde is alive. Our daughter is alive.

Ryker bowed and began to leave, but Geoffrey stopped him. “Wait. Bring Esme and Noelle here.”

Ryker paused, then replied, “They’ve already packed Isolde’s things. They’ve moved to the Sharp family.”

Geoffrey was stunned. He sank back into his chair, the weight of defeat crushing him. Yes, everything that had belonged to Prunella was being taken away—there was nothing left for him.

“Go,” he muttered darkly, his gaze hollow. “I don’t care anymore.”

Ryker, despite over a decade with the Langley family, had never been truly valued by Geoffrey. His move into the inner household, favored by Matilda, was unsurprising. Seeing Geoffrey so defeated, Ryker felt a twisted sense of satisfaction.

But even so, he remained cautious. If Isolde never returned, he’d still live under the Langley name. He dared not cross Geoffrey.

Ryker stepped out, and just as he left, Vance stormed in.

Vance barged into the room, shouting, “Geoffrey!”

Ryker immediately stepped forward. “Vance, what are you doing?”

Vance shoved Ryker aside, rushing to Geoffrey’s side, panic etched on his face. He stammered, his words barely coherent, about a doctor, his mother’s inability to stand.

Geoffrey’s face darkened, his voice ice-cold. “So, she can’t stand? Is that all?”

Vance stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you understand?” Geoffrey’s voice was filled with venom. “I would be more than happy if she died—but I won’t let her die quickly. No, I’ll keep her alive, suffering.”

Vance exploded with fury. “You ungrateful bastard! How dare you curse your own mother like that? Don’t forget, she raised you! Whatever wrong she did, you have no right to hold it against her.”

“You think you raised me?” Geoffrey’s anger boiled over. “Why are you shouting at me now? You think I should be grateful to you? I’ve always hated you, Vance. The only reason I’ve hidden it is because of our positions, but now—now I don’t care.”

Vance froze, eyes wide with shock. He’d never seen Geoffrey like this—so fierce, so full of anger.

“Do you want to ruin your reputation?” Vance threatened, his voice shaking. “I warn you, if you dare disrespect Mother, I will go outside and spread rumors about you. The world will know what kind of son you are.”

“Go ahead,” Geoffrey said, his voice flat. “I’ve lost everything. What is reputation to me now?”

Vance’s heart sank. It was clear—Geoffrey was beyond reach. The Duke’s estate was no longer a place for him.

Meanwhile, the doctor had treated Prudence with acupuncture, and she regained consciousness, though left with half her face paralyzed, her mouth crooked, and unable to move her left side. Nicole, ever the dutiful servant, stood by her side. Seeing her awake, she approached with quiet concern. “Grandmother, how are you feeling?”

Prudence’s eyes were wide, filled with a crazed look as she tried to speak. “Where… where is your mother?”

Her words were slurred, her mouth contorted with the effort. After several painful attempts, she finally managed, “Bring… bring her to me…”

Nicole nodded softly. “She’s in the house.”

“Tell her… to come… to serve me,” Prudence said with great effort, her voice barely audible, saliva trickling from the corner of her mouth.

“Yes, Grandmother,” Nicole responded quietly, turning to leave.

Nicole stood in the hallway, taking a deep breath. A bitter smile spread across her face. Why would Mother come to serve her now? Prudence was delusional, expecting aid, but Nicole knew better. Her mother was scheming, and even a fool like her knew it. Prudence’s hope was a desperate, foolish fantasy.

After waiting a long time without hearing any footsteps, Prudence slipped back into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, a strange noise filled the room. It sounded like things were being thrown around, drawers pulled open. Slowly, Prudence opened her eyes to see Vance and Priscilla rummaging through her cabinets.

“What… what are you… doing?” Prudence’s eyes were wide with anger, though she could barely speak.

Vance, seeing she was awake, stepped forward urgently. “Mother, where are the jewels? The jewelry?”

“How dare you…” Prudence’s face twisted in fury, her hands trembling with rage. Her words were broken and difficult, but venomous. “What are you… doing?”

Priscilla, growing impatient, snapped, “What are we doing? What else? We’re going back to Caelmont. What do you think? If we stay here, we’ll starve. I know you hid a bunch of gold and jewelry. You didn’t sell the jewels from the Sharp family’s dowry. Where did you hide them?”

Prudence, her face twisted with rage, stared at both of them. “You… have no shame.”

Vance scoffed, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Mother, you’re dying. Why are you hiding all this stuff? You’ve always said it was for me. Well, now that we’re in trouble, you can’t keep it all to yourself. You lived comfortably in the Duke’s estate… what kind of heartless, evil mother are you?”

Prudence spasmed with rage, her whole being trembling as if the anger was too much to bear. She couldn’t even respond.

Then Priscilla stepped forward and, with a swift motion, shoved Prudence back against her pillows. “Are you going to take those jewels to the grave with you?” she hissed. “You always promised us something when we married. You must have hidden them somewhere. Where are they?”