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..."

done, if you've cried enough, then pack

do you

cracked a cold smile: "Did you think I was joking when I told you to leave? Letting you stay

sobbed harder, her earlier fear now dwarfed by the panic of

child, you can't just kick me

flinch at her protest,

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

arrive, Millie was already in

at Murray: "I won't

should I?! Your mother cares

will you explain to

this

guard, Murray was tackled, Millie's fists raining down on him in desperation. "Murray!

your child, and you're still hung up

I'd rather die

to listen to

stumbled backward, her back slamming against the wall with a dull

madwoman, she charged at

time, Murray was prepared, swiftly

in time, crashing directly into the edge of the

body rigid, feeling a warm gush between

Sensing something was wrong,

to

trickling down her legsongs

staining the floor.