"Is that little brat giving you trouble again?"

"How do you know it’s a boy?"

"They say the more you want something, the less likely you will get it. You have to say the opposite.

“A boy is fine, too. Later, we can have a girl and the two of us can protect the two of you."

Hearing this, Millie’s lips curved faintly as she replied, each word deliberate, "Have you ever heard the saying, 'If you want it all, you’ll end up with nothing'?"

Elliot’s smile faltered for a fleeting moment, a strange unease tightening his chest. But he quickly regained his composure and wrapped her in a firm embrace. In a voice barely above a whisper, he murmured, "Then all I want is you."

Millie averted her gaze, her lips twisting into a faint, mocking smile.

The silence shattered with the sharp ring of a phone. Elliot’s eyes flickered to the screen and they stepped aside to answer it.

Through the quiet night, Hilary’s trembling voice rang clear.

"Brother Elliot, I think someone broke into my room! I’m hiding in the bathroom, too scared to come out. I can’t reach my manager and don’t know what to do…" Her sobs punctuated her words, each one tugging at the air between them.

"Stay hidden and don’t move. I’m coming over. Keep the line open."

Without glancing back, Elliot bolted out the door, leaving the room and Millie behind.

Millie chuckled softly under her breath, her expression unreadable, before heading to the bathroom.

By the time she emerged from her bath, the clock had struck 11 p.m. She climbed into bed and reached for her phone, which buzzed twice on the bedside table.

Unlocking it, an unnamed profile flashed on the screen, accompanied by a string of messages. [Don’t think you can use the baby to tie him down. Neither you nor your child will take Elliot from me.]

[You think he loves you? He’s only with you out of pity.]

Her thumb hovered over the short video attached and she tapped it. The dim screen flickered to life, releasing muffled sounds that made her stomach churn.

A delicate voice whimpered, "Elliot… Elliot… Brother Elliot… be gentle… Hale hurts…"

The man in the clip said nothing, only letting out a faint, weary sigh before the recording ended.

Another message followed instantly. [He always falls asleep so quickly afterward.]

Millie’s grip on the phone tightened, her knuckles whitening as she forced a sharp intake of breath, battling the wave of nausea clawing at her chest.

Saving the photo and video without a second thought, Millie lay back and drifted into a restless sleep.

By morning, she had made up her mind. She submitted her resignation without hesitation and walked out of the building, her decision firm and resolute. As she stepped outside, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Hilary’s name flashed on the screen.

When she arrived, Hilary was already waiting, her smug demeanor evident. Millie took her seat across the table and wasted no time. "What do you want?"

"Just catching up with an old friend…"

Millie’s gaze hardened as she cut through the charade. "Don’t waste your time pretending with me. I’m not Elliot."

Hilary’s smile grew sharper, a glint of malice dancing in her eyes. She leaned forward, her words slow and deliberate. "Millie, relationships can’t be forced. You spent ten years chasing after Elliot and what did it get you? A marriage was as hollow as an empty shell. Was it worth it?"

"And do you even know the truth? Elliot wouldn't have looked your way if it weren’t for me. Back in the day, I told him about this girl in class who was ‘bullying’ me. He was so eager to devise schemes to get back at you."

"Remember when we pushed you down the stairs? He carried you to the infirmary and you cried your eyes out, saying no one had ever been so kind to you. We laughed ourselves sick when he came back and told us."

"Did you not see it? Every one of those moments where he played the hero—they were his ideas all along.”

"Watching you gaze at him like he was some sort of savior was hilarious. We couldn’t help but think—how could someone be so pathetically blind?"

Millie tightened her grip on the cup, her fingers trembling as she bit her lip, desperately trying to keep the tears from spilling.

So, this was the truth. Every time they pushed her down the stairs, falsely accused her of theft, or tormented her in the restroom—he had been there. Elliot had seen everything.

Every moment he "just happened to pass by," every instance he seemed to swoop in at the perfect time—it had never been a coincidence.

The one she had foolishly seen as her savior, her light in an otherwise pitch-black world, had never truly been on her side. From the beginning, he had been nothing more than a silent accomplice.

He even went out of his way to distract the teachers, ensuring no interruptions for their schemes.

A cruel sense of irony swept over her as she imagined how proud he must have felt. She watched her look up to him with awe, clinging to the illusion of his kindness, never letting go.

Memories she had once cherished now felt like daggers in her heart.

"Elliot, which university are you applying to? Wherever you go, I’ll follow."

"I don’t care what happens, as long as you let me stay by your side."

"You were the first person to teach me what love is. I think… you’ll be the only one I’ll ever love."

***

Hilary’s lips moved, but her words were drowned out by the loud buzz in Millie’s ears. The sound was so loud it felt like her head might burst at any moment.

“Shut up! Haley, just shut up!”

“Millie, when your mother became a mistress and shattered someone else’s marriage, did she ever think that karma would one day come for her daughter? I’m simply here to make sure you feel the pain my mother endured.”

Lowering her voice, Hilary added, her smile brimming with confidence, “But now that I’ve had my fun, it’s time for you to step aside.”

Millie let out a bitter laugh. “Does picking up trash bring you satisfaction?”

Hilary’s smirk faltered as frustration crept into her expression. “Still the same sharp tongue,” she sneered. “You could beg for mercy and save some humiliation, but no, you just have to cling to this holier-than-thou act. It’s disgusting.”

“You know, I enjoy watching you break down—crying, kneeling, admitting just how worthless you are…”

Pulling out her phone, Hilary flipped the screen to face Millie. A photo appeared, showing a girl curled up in a corner, clutching her bruised body. Her arms and legs bore vivid marks of violence, yet her face remained stoic, her gaze blank. Above the photo, the caption read: [Beating a dog while it’s down.]

“Look at her,” Hilary murmured, her voice dripping with mockery. “So pitiful, so deserving of everyone’s sympathy.”

A tidal wave of humiliation crashed over Millie, the memories she had buried now surging to the surface, suffocating her. Time hadn’t erased the past—it had merely tucked it away, waiting for moments like this to resurface.

Without warning, the sharp sound of a slap echoed through the quiet café, silencing the murmurs around them.

Hilary’s head snapped to the side, her cheek blossoming with a vivid red handprint. She slowly turned back to Millie, her hand covering the stinging mark. Malice flickered in her eyes but vanished instantly, replaced by a teary, wounded expression.

“Millie…”

“If you want to perform, I’ll gladly join in.”

She grabbed the glass of juice from the table and poured it over Hilary’s head. The yellow liquid trickled down her hair, staining her clothes and bag, bits of pulp clinging to her like an unwelcome reminder of the moment.

Hilary froze, a fleeting smile flashing across her lips before her eyes reddened. Her expression shifted to one of fragile innocence.

Around the café, curious eyes turned toward them. Someone whispered Hilary’s name and another discreetly started recording on their phone.

“Haley,” Millie said, her voice steady, “if you think you’re worthy, fight for him. Win and I’ll gladly step aside. That way, you won’t carry the burden of being a homewrecker.”

Hilary stared back at her, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Alright.”

By evening, photos from the café flooded social media. Hilary’s vague yet suggestive post painted Millie as the villain, the narrative turning her into the bully who had once tormented Hilary.

Uninformed netizens and Hilary’s devoted fans swarmed the internet like vultures circling a carcass, flooding every platform with venomous insults. They demanded Millie issue a public apology, their outrage growing louder by the hour.

Without Millie’s unique status, her past would have already been dragged out and dissected by the public eye.

Amid the chaos, Millie remained as calm as a still lake. She simply switched off her phone, leaving the online uproar to burn out and went to bed without a second thought.

She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when she stirred awake, her senses returning slowly.

The bedroom was cloaked in darkness, but the faint silver glow of the moon seeped through the curtains. Through its light, she could make out the silhouette of someone seated by the floor-to-ceiling window, a quiet, brooding figure.

“Millie, just apologize to her and this will all blow over,” Elliot’s familiar voice broke the silence, low and measured. He stubbed out a cigarette with a practiced flick and stepped out of the shadows, moving closer to her.

Millie’s gaze met his, calm and courageous, as she lay still on the bed. “Aren’t you even curious to know why?”

“It doesn’t matter. Millie, the court doesn’t care why a criminal does what they do. If you’re wrong, you admit it. Simple as that.”

He perched on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing back a stray lock of her hair with an almost tender touch. “You went too far this time.”

Millie tilted her face into his palm, her expression soft, her movements deliberate, exuding a quiet dependence. Yet beneath the surface, her thoughts simmered.

Too far? Over a glass of juice?

She couldn’t help but scoff inwardly. If Hilary caused someone’s death, she wondered, would Elliot still take the same detached stance? Would he still insist on apologies and moving on?

“Alright,” she said softly. “I’ll apologize. Tomorrow, I’ll even cook for her as a goodwill gesture.”

Elliot blinked, clearly surprised by her sudden compliance. But he didn’t linger on it. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, his tone warm and approving. “Good girl. You always know how to make things easier.”

The next morning, Millie rose with the first light of dawn. Instead of stepping into the kitchen, she called for a high-end restaurant to deliver an impeccable spread. By the time she finished plating the dishes, the faint click of the door unlocking reached her ears.

Peering through the doorway, Millie caught sight of Hilary, impeccably dressed and exuding confidence as she strolled inside as if she still owned the place.

“Apologies, Millie,” Hilary said breezy, making herself comfortable on the sofa. “I used to live here, you know. I didn’t expect Elliot to turn it into your marital home while I was abroad. The door lock’s password hasn’t changed, so I thought I’d let myself in.”

“No problem at all. If you’d like, you’re welcome to move back in. The room you used to stay in is still regularly cleaned. There are even some things of yours left behind. Feel free to look and see if there’s anything you need to clear out.”

Hilary arched a brow but said nothing, heading upstairs with the ease of someone who knew the house inside and out.

Opening the door to her old bedroom, she was greeted by a preserved time capsule of her past. The desk held a framed photo from years ago—a snapshot of her and Elliot in their youth.

In the picture, her hair was tied back in a neat ponytail and she wore a bright smile as she stood beside Elliot, who had a cocky smirk and his hands shoved casually into his pockets.

Elliot had always loathed taking pictures, but she had nagged him endlessly during their middle school graduation until he reluctantly gave in. That single photo held a thousand memories.

“Elliot seems to cherish this photo,” Millie said, her voice breaking the silence.

Startled, Hilary turned to see Millie leaning casually against the doorframe, her gaze cool but not unkind. With a sweet smile, Hilary replied, “Some memories are simply irreplaceable.”

Millie’s lips curved into a faint, detached smile. “I won’t argue with that. So what?”

"If you step aside now, you can still save some dignity."

Unmoved, Millie stepped aside, giving her just enough space to leave the room. “Do you even love him, or is this all about keeping your family’s secrets under wraps? You know the truth. Your father broke the law and trying to hide behind the Hemsworth family’s power is beyond laughable.”

Hilary froze mid-stride, a soft chuckle slipping from her lips. “Loving him and securing my family’s interests aren’t mutually exclusive,” she said, her tone tinged with mockery. “But it’s not your place to preach. Instead of pointing fingers, maybe you should start planning how to squeeze the most out of Elliot when the divorce papers come. Otherwise, you might walk away with nothing.”

Before Millie could respond, the sound of the front door unlocking drifted upstairs. Hilary’s demeanor shifted instantly.

With practiced ease, she softened her expression, her steps light as she turned and clasped Millie’s hand in a show of warmth.

“Millie, don’t think too much about it,” Hilary said. I don’t blame you for anything. If anything, I was in the wrong back when we were kids. Bullying you was my mistake and I deserve the punishment.”