I transmigrated and got a husband and a son!-Chapter 1210: Final moment

A short grunt escaped Hera as she tackled Florence, stopping the latter from committing the vilest thing she could do. But she was late. The second Hera rolled on the floor, the surface shook violently.

BOOM!

"Hahaha!" Florence laughed maniacally, making Hera look at her with wide eyes. "Die! Everyone deserves to die!"

Hera clenched her teeth and pushed Florence away from her. "You crazy bitch!"

"Hahaha!"

"Shit!" Hera pushed herself up, only to almost lose her balance when another violent shake occurred.

A deafening explosion clapped in her ears, urging her to move to safety. Hence, Hera was about to make a run for it, even though she knew it could be futile. She believed what Florence said about the bombs scattered on the whole island. But even if it was a bluff, this mansion would turn to rubble in no time.

"Felice."

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her leg tightly.

Looking down, it was Florence.

Florence had tears in her eyes, flowing continuously down her temple. Her lips were trembling, her complexion more pale.

"Please..." she hiccuped. "... don’t go, Felice. Don’t leave me alone."

"You —"

"I’m scared, sis." Florence’s voice shook, biting her trembling lips to muffle her cries. "If you leave, I’ll have to deal with him all alone. Please... don’t leave me."

For some reason, there was this slightly conflicted emotion in Hera’s heart. However, feeling sorry for Florence wasn’t at the top of her list.

"I’m sorry, Florence," she breathed out. "My mother made her choice, and you made yours. It’s time for me to make mine."

Having said that, Hera pulled her feet and escaped her clutches. Without looking back, Hera sprinted away. The monitors were already disconnected from all the rumbles across the mansion. Hence, Hera didn’t know the situation outside.

It could be worse or much better.

Either way, Hera didn’t waste a second because Dominic was on the island.

"I swear to god if this entire island exploded... I’m going to kill her a thousand times in hell!"

****

Florence coughed as dust started to fall on her. The surface she was lying on continuously made huge tremors. At the back of her mind, she knew she needed to make a run for it. This place would soon collapse and she didn’t want to get crushed by it.

However, she couldn’t move at all.

She lost too much blood and she could no longer feel her legs. All she could do was listen to the explosions nearby, cough because of the dust polluting her lungs, and wait for her impending doom.

Would she die before the ceiling collapsed? Or would she be able to feel the pain of the entire house falling on her? Either way, it didn’t matter.

Suddenly, a part of the wall collapsed as the next explosion sounded closer to the control room.

A subtle smile appeared on Florence’s face despite her situation.

’Strange,’ she thought, staring at the ceiling as the fog started to blur her vision. ’This is very strange.’

She knew she would die at any moment. However, she didn’t feel scared nor did she feel spiteful at all. If anything, she felt... relaxed — at peace.

"Ah..." she muttered as if clarity was slowly dawning on her. "I can finally rest and stop fighting, huh?"

That was why she felt relaxed. Finally, Florence was going to rest.

All her life, she had been fighting for something she thought she had to. Pleasing her father was her life’s mission, and when that same man screwed her up, she believed she still had to hold on to something. Her desire to get what she believed she deserved fueled her and eventually blinded her.

Florence lost herself.

She wasn’t originally like this.

Although she wasn’t particularly kind, she wasn’t as vile. But now that she was waiting for her end, she knew she didn’t have to hold on to anything at all. Her mind, body, and soul could finally rest.

"Rest..." she whispered. "... now that I think about it, when was the last time I got a proper rest?"

"Felicia."

Suddenly, one small monitor that was somewhat still working lit up.

"Can you play me debussy clair de lune?" she asked and coughed, and after a second, a classical piece was heard in the control room. Florence smiled in satisfaction, finding solace in the music. She focused on the music and ignored the other deafening noises around.

"How beautiful." Her eyes felt heavy, catching glimpses of the cracks spreading on the ceiling. Florence slowly closed her eyes, maintaining the small yet genuine smile on her face. But somehow, she felt like she was forgetting something.

’Ah...’ she thought, sighing. ’Cold season is coming. Charlie should wear extra layers so he won’t get cold.’

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, the ceiling over her gave in, falling to the surface without conditions.

*****

[FLASHBACK]

Florence sat with a grim expression, staring at the crib a few meters from her. Her father’s mistress had just given birth to a son. It only meant one thing. This child would take everything she worked hard for years.

It was a good thing she dragged that woman away secretly and pretended to have been pregnant. Florence had been away from anyone’s eyes. Therefore, no one would suspect her claims.

"Madam," suddenly, a man came to her side. "What should we do to the mistress and the child?"

"Kill her." Florence pushed herself up from the chair. "And this child, send it away."

The man lowered his head and walked away to execute the order. Florence, on the other hand, was about to leave the child all alone when she heard it laugh. Curious, she arched a brow and looked back at the crib.

The baby was laughing for no reason.

Was there something to be laughing about when ’it’ was about to be sent away?

Up until now, Florence couldn’t explain what compelled her to approach the child and see what made ’it’ so happy. Looking over at the crib, the child giggled and reached his little hands to her.

"What an ugly-looking child," she said, as this was the first time she had seen it despite being in the room for half an hour now. "I hate children because they cry a lot, but you don’t cry so much, huh?"

The child let out another wave of giggle, opening and closing his little, plump fingers as if he needed human contact. Florence raised her brows before she moved her index to him. The baby immediately grasped her finger, his face shining so brightly.

"Even I am scared of myself..." she whispered, rubbing the back of the baby’s hand with her thumb. His hand was so small she could press his hand with her thumb and crush it. "... yet here you are, smiling so innocently at the person who might kill you today."

Was it how adorable the child looked? Or was it the fact that for the first time, Florence felt that someone needed her?

Until now, Florence couldn’t understand why she retracted her orders and decided to raise the child all of her own, even when she knew that keeping this child close to her could be a huge problem in the future.

However, what she knew in her final moments was that... she was glad she didn’t send that poor kid away.