Chapter 473: You Were Always a Monster

After dinner, just before 7 p.m., William unexpectedly received a personal call from Philip, inviting him to attend the farewell ceremony at Westminster Abbey the next morning at 10 a.m. without hesitation, William agreed.

His relationship with the royal family was quite good, they were business partners, and as part of the aristocracy, there were no conflicts of interest. Given the circumstances, William had no issue protecting Philip's family if necessary.

The next morning, before 6 a.m., while William was still asleep with Abigail in his arms, the sound of a ringing phone woke him up. Groggily, he reached for the phone and saw it was Gareth Mallory from the Security Council.

When he answered, Gareth apologized, "Sorry to wake you so early, William. If you're not up yet, I can call back in ten minutes, or…"

"Stop, I'm awake," William interrupted, knowing something important must have come up. Gareth rarely contacted him, especially not so early, unless there was an urgent matter.

"Alright," Gareth continued, unfazed by the interruption. "The President of the United States, Benjamin Arthur, has moved up his schedule by two hours and will be landing at the air force base outside the city in forty minutes. The reception was supposed to be handled by John Lancaster, but for some reason, Catherine insisted that you be the one to greet Benjamin. If you don't want to, I can turn her down for you."

"Outside the city? No way. I have enough to deal with today, and I'm not interested in greeting the American President," William immediately declined. Based on his memories, Benjamin Arthur's head of security, Mike Banning—the Spartan emperor himself—was more than capable. Besides, the Bakawi family wanted to capture Arthur alive, so his chances of being killed were slim. And even if something went wrong, William couldn't be bothered.

"Okay, I'll let Catherine know," Gareth replied. After a brief pause, he added, "If you're not too busy today, it might be a good idea to stick close to Catherine. She's having a tough time right now."

"No problem, Gareth. Once I've taken care of my own matters, I'll keep an eye on her."

After hanging up, William kissed Abigail on the cheek and was about to get out of bed when she pulled him back by the neck.

"Stay with me a little longer, darling," Abigail murmured.

"Sorry, Abby. I'm in a rush, and I can't stay with you right now. Remember what I told you—stay home today, and if anything happens, follow my instructions and go to the basement immediately."

"You're really leaving at a time like this?" Abigail said teasingly, pulling William closer with a seductive smile.

"Alright, you little vixen, I really do have things to do."

William pried her arms from around his neck. "Sunday will be watching you. If you dare leave the house today, you'll regret it when I get back."

"What kind of regret?" Abigail said, tracing her finger along William's chin playfully.

"Damn it," William groaned, struggling to resist her charms. After a moment, he shook his head and got up. "If you behave today, I'll take you to see a never-before-seen Da Vinci painting."

"Really?" Abigail, who had been thinking of ways to keep William from leaving, covered her mouth in surprise. "You're not lying to me, are you?"

"Of course not," William said, standing up and heading to the dressing room. "Why would I lie to you about something like that? Besides, I'm William Devonshire, remember?"

Entering the large dressing room, William changed into a bulletproof shirt, tie, and trousers, and strapped on a shoulder holster. He then put on a mid-length business-style coat. 

He walked over to the weapons room, opened it using a passcode, and retrieved two Glock pistols. After thoroughly checking them, he placed them on the table and grabbed ten magazines. He belted on a magazine holder, slipping the magazines into the pouches at his waist and back, testing their fit before loading them.

Attracted by the mention of the Da Vinci painting, Abigail, wrapped in a velvet blanket, followed him into the dressing room. Upon seeing the array of weapons—guns, grenades, and even rocket launchers—her eyes widened.

Still, as an American, Abigail wasn't particularly shocked by having guns in the house, but rocket launchers and grenade launchers were a bit much.

"God, darling, don't you worry about keeping so many heavy weapons in the house?"

"What's there to worry about?" William glanced at Abigail, whose eyes were gleaming with excitement rather than fear. This girl, who seemed gentle on the outside, clearly had a bold streak.

After a few moments of thought, William said, "Sunday, lock all the weapons rooms in the house. Unless there's an emergency, don't let Abigail access them, and prohibit her from handling any of the weapons alone."

"Understood, Sir. Access to the weapons rooms has been restricted for Miss Abigail," Sunday's voice confirmed through the room.

"You're so stingy," Abigail pouted. "Just because you won't let me use them doesn't mean I can't go to a shooting range."

"Going to a shooting range with proper guidance is fine, and if I'm free, I'll even teach you myself. But there's no way I'm letting you handle these weapons alone."

As he spoke, William swiftly loaded the magazines, clicking each one into place in less than ten seconds, leaving Abigail in awe.

"Darling, how many years have you been shooting to load magazines that quickly?"

William paused for a moment, then lied without missing a beat. "Since I was twelve. I probably shoot about ten thousand rounds a year."

"Ten thousand rounds?" Abigail did some quick mental math and gasped. "That's an average of twenty-seven rounds a day. No wonder you're so skilled."

As she watched William load the two pistols and slip them into the holsters under his arms, it finally dawned on Abigail. "Wait, you're taking guns with you today?"

"Everyone who's anyone in England is attending James' funeral today. Who knows what might happen? It's better to be prepared than caught off guard."

Once he was done preparing his weapons, William buttoned his coat and checked his appearance in the full-length mirror, making sure the firearms were well concealed. Then, he turned to Abigail and said, "Don't just stand there. Help me tie my tie."

"Haha," Abigail chuckled as she wrapped the blanket around herself and approached William. Taking the tie from his hand, she teased, "Finally, something you're not good at. Otherwise, I'd think you were a monster."

With a playful slap on Abigail's rear, William retorted, "Is it appropriate to call your man a monster?"

"You are a monster," Abigail replied, eyes gleaming mischievously.

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