[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

Gloria had appeared beside Neville without anyone noticing, and her earlier shopping enthusiasm was doused with cold, restrained anger.

Both women immediately straightened their backs, and their confrontational postures changed to something more respectful.

"Madam Maxwell," the woman said, inclining her head. "We were simply curious about your companion. It’s unusual to see someone we don’t recognize in such an... exclusive place."

So, when they said the Erskine family, they were talking about Gloria? Neville widened his eyes; he couldn’t believe that, apart from being wealthy, they were even noble. This made even less sense that Grayson destroyed the world for one man.

Gloria’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

"This is my daughter-in-law," she introduced him with a hint of pride that made Neville’s ears burn. "Neville."

Both women blinked.

"Your... daughter-in-law?" Vera repeated with obvious confusion. She exchanged a glance with her companion. "I wasn’t aware that Elara had remarried."

Gloria’s expression went from cool to absolutely glacier-ed in the span of a heartbeat.

Neville knew who she was talking about. Elara Maxwell was Grayson’s older sister. She was married to Thiago Miranda, the family doctor he met before.

Vera had made a mistake, a big one, judging by the way Gloria’s jaw tightened.

"Neville," Gloria slowly said, barely stopping herself from gritting her teeth, "is Grayson’s wife."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Both women stared at Neville as if seeing him for the first time. Their eyes swept over him again. He had an average appearance, wore modest clothing, and had an unremarkable demeanor. Their expressions cycled through surprise, confusion, and disbelief.

Neville scratched his cheek awkwardly, unsure what to do.

"Grayson’s?" the woman finally said in a weak voice.

"My son, yes," Gloria confirmed with a cold, displeased tone.

"I—we—" The woman seemed to be struggling to find words. "We apologize, Madam Maxwell. We didn’t realize—we didn’t mean—"

"You didn’t realize that my son had gotten married?" Gloria finished for her. "Or you didn’t mean to say that my daughter-in-law was somehow not worthy of shopping with me."

"That’s not—we weren’t—"

"Or perhaps," Gloria continued, her smile growing sharper by the second, "you didn’t mean to say that the only way someone would accompany in a place is if they belonged to some ’noble house.’ As if a person’s worth is determined solely by money."

Neville watched in fascinated horror as Gloria systematically dismantled both women without raising her voice or losing her composure.

Vera looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Meanwhile, the other woman had gone pale.

"Madam Maxwell, please accept our sincere apologies." The woman bowed, a deep formal bow that Neville had only seen in period dramas. "We didn’t mean to offend you or your family."

"I’m sure you didn’t," Gloria said, but her tone clearly conveyed that he didn’t believe her. "After all, it would be terribly embarrassing if word got around that the Whitmore family was harassing the new Maxwell daughter-in-law in public."

The other woman, Lady Whitmore’s complexion went even paler. "Please, Madam Maxwell, there’s no need to—"

"No need to what? Mention this incident at the next charity gala? Bring it up at the council meeting? Discuss it with my dear friend, the Duchess of Azelia?" Gloria smiled, showing all her teeth as if she was bearing her fangs at them. "You’re right. There’s no need. Unless, of course, I feel the need."

Both women bowed again, their movements jerky with barely concealed panic.

"We’ll take our leave," Lady Whitmore said, grabbing the confused Vera’s arm. "Please accept our apologies, Madam Maxwell. And our congratulations on your son’s marriage."

They retreated so quickly they nearly knocked over a display stand. Within moments, they had disappeared into the crowd of shoppers, presumably to nurse their wounded pride in private.

But why did they think that he was married to Grayson? Can’t they just assume that he was Grayson’s boyfriend or fiancé? But then again, why did Gloria introduce him as her daughter-in-law? My conscience couldn’t bear this much, you know.

Gloria watched them go, with an unreadable expression that was quite similar to Grayson’s. Then she turned to Neville, and her entire demeanor shifted. The cold aristocrat vanished, replaced by the warm, slightly mischievous woman who had been shopping with him all morning.

"Well," she said. "That was unpleasant."

Neville let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. "Thank you. You didn’t have to—"

"Of course I should." Gloria linked her arm through his like a teenager and guided him away from the scene. "You’re family now, Neville. Whether it’s official or not—you are family. I won’t let anyone disrespect my family."

Family...

Ah, my conscience...save me, you bastard Grayson! 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Neville felt his feet struggle to step. He hadn’t had this much walking since he transmigrated. Everything here was all about convenience after all, therefore it was a huge struggle to adapt to unlimited standing and walking.

"I believe we’ve covered the essentials," Gloria said, talking to the chibi AI robot dragon. The holographic display cast a faint blue shimmer across her elegant features as she scrolled through what Neville could only assume was a checklist. "Clothing, shoes, accessories, jewelry..."

Neville perked up slightly.

Are they finally done?

"Oh! We haven’t done skincare yet."

His heart sank back down.

"Skincare?" His voice cracked slightly, and he immediately hated himself for it. "Auntie, I really don’t think—"

But she was already navigating the floating platform towards the nearest skincare shop. Neville, whose only option to escape was to jump from this floating platform that was floating so high, had no choice but to follow.

The skincare boutique they entered was all white surfaces and soft lighting.

Attendants in pristine uniforms moved about with the hushed reverence like priests and nuns in a temple. Their faces were so flawless they served as walking advertisements for the products they sold.

"Your skin is naturally quite good," Gloria praised him as she gave him an appraising look that made Neville feel goosebumps. He even adjusted his glasses uncomfortably to hide his face a little bit.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied his face. "But prevention is always better than cure. Besides, there’s a new line from the Federation Galaxy that’s supposed to work wonders on pore refinement."

Neville resisted the urge to touch his face self-consciously. "My pores are fine—"

"Would you like to have your skin analysis, young sir?"