Transmigrated: I Became My Nemesis's Woman novel Chapter 166

Chapter 166: You helped me on purpose

Meanwhile, news of everything that had happened at the Ford house quickly reached Xander.

He listened to Taylor’s report without interrupting, his expression unreadable.

When Taylor finished, Xander leaned back in his chair and spoke in a calm, measured tone.

"Make sure every loan shark France owes money to starts demanding repayment at the same time. I want him backed into a corner."

Taylor gave a slight nod, immediately understanding the implication behind the order.

"I’ll see to it."

Despite Ivy assuring him that she had already dealt with Nora and France during the reunion, Xander had no intention of letting the matter rest. France had repeatedly tried to involve himself in Ivy’s life, and that alone was enough to earn Xander’s attention.

For some time, Xander had quietly monitored France’s activities. He knew the man spent most of his days squandering money at gambling tables and living off whatever Florine could provide.

Until recently, however, he had never considered him worth investigating any further.

Now that had changed.

The more information Taylor uncovered, the clearer the pattern became—a trail of unpaid debts, broken promises, and increasingly desperate attempts to borrow money.

Taylor made a mental note of Xander’s instructions before opening another file in his hands.

"There’s one more update, sir," he said. "I think you’ll want to hear this."

Xander lifted his eyes to meet his assistant’s.

"Go on."

"It’s about Second Master Aaron," Taylor said. "He’s found a possible way to help Logan Mortini’s wife."

The moment those words left his mouth, a flicker of hope appeared in Xander’s eyes.

Although Aaron had been staying at the Emerson Mansion for some time, the two of them had rarely discussed Hailey Mortini’s condition in detail. Aaron had preferred to work quietly, only sharing updates when he had something concrete.

Now, it seemed he finally did.

"Are you certain?" Xander asked, his usually composed voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

Taylor nodded. "That’s the information I received. According to Aaron, the treatment isn’t guaranteed, but he believes there’s a genuine chance of success."

Xander fell silent, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of his chair.

If Aaron could truly help Hailey, it might be the breakthrough he had been waiting for.

The only problem was Logan.

The man trusted almost no one, especially when it came to his wife’s well-being. Barging in with an offer of help would only make him suspicious.

Xander’s brows drew together as he considered his options.

He needed to approach Logan carefully—on equal footing, without hidden agendas or unnecessary pressure. More importantly, he had to give Logan a reason to believe that his intentions were genuine.

Only then would Logan be willing to listen.

Taylor watched his employer in silence, knowing from the look on Xander’s face that his mind was already several steps ahead, piecing together a plan.

***

Back at the Ford house, after being cut off financially by his mother, France stormed out in anger.

He had always believed he could keep his gambling debts under control. But after the men showed up at his house, threatened his family, and tore the place apart, he realized the situation was far more serious than he had imagined.

Frustrated, he headed to a bar he frequented—a place where he could drown his worries in alcohol and distract himself from reality.

Despite Florine’s harsh words, France remained convinced she would never truly abandon him.

She’s my mother, he thought. No matter how much trouble I cause, she’ll eventually step in and clean up the mess.

Taking a seat at the counter, he ordered a whiskey and emptied half the glass in one gulp, hoping the burn would quiet the thoughts racing through his mind.

For the moment, the debt collectors had backed off after receiving a partial payment, but he knew they wouldn’t stay away forever. He would have to be much more careful.

Just then, a woman in an elegant black dress approached and took the empty stool beside him.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked with an easy smile.

France glanced at her before shrugging.

"Go ahead."

She nodded toward his glass. "You look like you’ve had a rough day."

"You could say that."

He signaled to the bartender.

"Another drink for me—and one for the lady."

The bartender poured the drinks and slid them across the counter.

"I’ve seen you here before," the woman said casually, lifting her glass. "You’re a regular, aren’t you?"

France smirked. "Maybe."

The conversation drifted into light banter, enough to distract him from the chaos waiting outside.

When it came time to settle the bill, France pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to the bartender without a second thought.

The bartender swiped it once.

Then again.

A troubled expression crossed his face as he looked up.

"Sir," he said apologetically, "I’m afraid your card has been declined."

France frowned.

"Try it again."

The bartender did exactly that, but after another failed attempt, he slowly handed the card back.

"I’m sorry, sir. It’s still not going through."

For the first time that evening, genuine unease crept across France’s face.

The woman beside him glanced at the bartender, then back at France. Her expression changed almost instantly.

She offered an awkward smile and took a small step away.

"Sorry," she said with a shrug. "I thought you had money."

Without waiting for a response, she picked up her purse and disappeared into the crowd.

"What a bitch," he muttered under his breath.

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