Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

The screen played back the moment she sneaked into the study, cunningly switching two documents with the stealth of a cat burglar.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg. There were also recordings of her lording over Beverley, hurling verbal missiles and acting like she owned the place.

Millie was caught off guard, dumbstruck.

Was it the shock from the videos, or the sting from the man's unyielding slaps?

"I thought you were just a garden-variety narcissist, shallow and short-sighted, but you're a chronic liar, bitter and mean, stirring the pot, trying to drive wedges between people."

"Slapping you was to snap you back to reality, to cut off those delusions of grandeur. It was also a warning - cut the drama, or else—"

Murray's eyes narrowed, his tone dark as a storm cloud.

"You'll find there are fates far worse than death in this world."

Millie instinctively stepped back, her fear so intense that the burning pain on her cheeks seemed trivial.

"Murray, please, I-I didn't mean to..."

Murray remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"I'll go to Beverley myself, apologize. She can yell, she can hit, I won't fight back! Just as long as she forgives me, I'll do whatever it takes."

Still, Murray said nothing.

Panicked, Millie started sobbing uncontrollably. "I didn't do it on purpose, maybe it's the hormones from the pregnancy messing with my emotions, that's why I acted that way towards Beverley..." Murray watched her pitiful display, tears streaming down her face, looking every bit the victim.

"Are you done?"

Millie paused.

"Have you cried enough?"

"Murray..."

you're done, if you've cried enough,

do

I told you to

me!" Millie sobbed harder, her earlier fear now dwarfed

carrying your child, you can't just

even flinch at her protest, immediately

"No...I won't leave..."

Millie was

Murray: "I won't

should I?! Your mother cares

baby, how will you explain to

this

off guard, Murray was tackled, Millie's fists raining

and you're still hung up

leave! I'd rather die

like a banshee, refusing to listen to reason; Murray,

her back slamming against the wall with

like a madwoman, she

was prepared,

directly into

pale, her body rigid, feeling a warm gush between her

Sensing something was wrong,

down to see

her legsongs slowly looking down

staining the floor.