Daily Life of a Transmigrating Villain

:: Your Mom Died Emilia ::

"NO!!" Suddenly, Emilia's body lurched forward as she was pulled out of the nightmare, causing her to gasp for breath. She quickly turned her eyes around to meet the white marble walls, blue curtains, and various pieces of equipment, revealing that she was in a hospital room.

"Where am I—?! No, my mother!" Due to her sudden awakening, she couldn't recall things immediately, but the memories of seeing her mother's bloodied body assaulted her mind, prompting her to swiftly try to stand from the bed.

"Stop there, you idiot. You will harm yourself," a voice came, and she felt a hand holding her shoulder, stopping her from standing. She looked up to see a man whose deep black eyes met hers. She blinked blankly at him before a small tear rolled down her cheek.

"Are you a child?" Seizing the moment, Damien reached out with one hand to gently wipe away a tear from her cheek before placing his palm behind her head to pull her into a warm embrace. He held her close, her face nestled against his abdomen. Her eyes widened in surprise before she eventually broke into tears. "Sniff... sob... D-Damien."

"Sigh, what luck I have. How did I marry a crybaby?" Damien teased, feeling her hiccups and sobs as he gently ruffled his hand over her hair, trying to calm her as he glanced down.

"My mothe-r, Damien... sob," Emilia's voice broke in between, overwhelmed by all the heart-wrenching thoughts filling her mind about what might happen to her mother, who was her sole support.

"She is out of danger; the doctors are looking after her," Damien informed her, knowing that her cries might seem immature for an adult, but the pain and agony in her voice could only be understood by someone who had lost someone beloved.

For Damien, human emotions were something he had seen and experienced often. He learned that when a person reaches the limit of their pain, they forget to care about their appearance and express their emotions without regard for what others might think.

"Pl-please, she is the only one I have! Save her, p-please... sob," Emilia cried, her hand clutching the back of Damien's suit as she felt heartbroken by all the thoughts overwhelming her mind.

"Cry one more time, and I will leave," Damien stated clearly, realizing she needed to calm down instead of being consumed by her emotions. He understood it was crucial to plant some seeds now while she was most vulnerable. However, if she didn't listen to him, how could he achieve that?

"Sorry—" Emilia said, pursing her lips while tightening her grip on him, feeling a desperate need for emotional support. Before she felt a gentle tug on her hair, her eyes were firmly closed; upon opening them, she found herself gazing at Damien's face.

"Have you seen your state? You look like a drunk bumpkin bathed in mud," Damien chuckled, using his other hand to nudge her nose, which had some dust marks. Since she had lost consciousness, he had brought her into one of the hospital rooms, where nurses had provided some first aid.

"And here you are, hugging this muddy bumpkin, you mentalman," Emilia protested, feeling the warmth and firmness of his abdomen, clear enough for her to guess he had a well-built physique. But she knew his brain was rotten.

Even right now, she knew something evil and lecherous must be going through his mind, but somehow, she didn't want to part from him.

"Hm, then how about we get rid of your mud first, and I will show you how much of a gentleman I am?" With a teasing smile, Damien let his hand travel down from her hair, lightly tracing from her forehead to her nose, brushing over her lips as he lifted her chin to connect their faces.

"H-how?" Emilia inquired, her concerns about her mother's health still weighing heavily on her mind. But in that moment, as she looked at the face that had captivated her during her college days, she found herself entranced. She remained still, barely blinking, trying to commit that visage to memory—defined jawline, perfectly proportioned nose, deep-set eyes, and impeccable complexion.

She noticed the gentle strength of his fingers supporting her chin.

"Let's bathe together." Without giving her a chance to react, Damien moved closer, watching as her face turned a deep shade of red and her lips trembled, struggling to articulate her thoughts. In one fluid motion, he slid one hand around her shoulder and the other between her legs, lifting her into a Princess Carry.

'!??'

"Whaaat! D-Damien?! Wait, wait, give me time!" Emilia fought back, her hands pressing against his chest as she attempted to push him away. But it was too late; he had already lifted her off the bed. With no support beneath her, her hand instinctively clutched his collar.

She tried to voice her plea, but he turned away, heading toward the nearby bathroom, ignoring her desperate words as she was mercilessly taken with him.

"Mom! Help me!" In the end, the most the innocent woman could do was yell for help from her mother, her only protector. Yet, deep down, Emilia knew she was not giving her best to resist, as if her body wanted to go along with this man.

"I promise I will leave you if you call my name instead of your mother," Damien snickered as he opened the bathroom door, clear in his intent to seize this opportunity without a second thought to retreat today.

"Fine! Damien! Help me!" Emilia, wanting to play along since she knew no one was coming to rescue her, yelled as she lifted her face and cried loudly near his ears to annoy him.

Unfortunately for her, he glanced at her and, in a hushed voice, softly said, "Of course, I'm going to thoroughly inspect your body and then help you, Emilia," before playfully nibbling on her flushed red ear with a light bite.

"IEEKKK~!?"