For three long years, Millie endured Zoey's petty performance without saying a word.
There was a time when she still cared, and back then it felt like a splinter lodged deep in her heart. However, that feeling had faded, and she no longer wanted to waste energy on it, so she decided that indifference would be her final answer.
Without sparing Darren even a single glance, Millie walked straight past the two of them and made her way toward the private room where Ruben was waiting.
Before she could take another step, someone seized her arm. Darren's fingers tightened around her wrist, and the force of it made pain shoot up her arm.
"You heard Zoey speak to you, so why are you pretending otherwise?" Darren asked, and his voice carried a chill that left no room for refusal.
"What law says I have to respond just because I heard her?" Millie lifted her gaze to meet his. Although her tone remained steady, her words landed with unmistakable distance.
The calm detachment in Millie's expression was nothing like the woman he once knew, and it unsettled Darren more than anger ever could.
Trying to paint Millie as a villain, Zoey stepped forward and arranged her face into something fragile. "Millie, we may not be close, but we are still acquainted. Do you really have to treat me like this?" she asked gently.
A faint curve touched Millie's lips, though there was no warmth in it. "Acquainted? I am acquainted with the stray dog that lingers at the corner of the street. If it starts barking at me, should I rush over and bark in return?"
A crease formed between Darren's brows, and the shift in her tone unsettled him more than he expected.
Color drained from Zoey's face, and she quickly looked to him for support. "Darren, she just said…"
Before Zoey could finish, Millie stepped in and silenced her. "He is not deaf, and he heard every word I said."
For a brief second, Darren stood motionless, as if the ground had shifted beneath him. That pause was all she needed. She tore her arm free from his grasp, spun on her heel, and walked away without granting him another glance.
Left behind, Darren stared at his own hand, and the fading warmth of her skin lingered against his palm. As her figure grew smaller in the distance, his expression tightened, and confusion flickered behind his eyes.
In the past, she would have rushed toward him the instant he appeared, whether to argue or to plead, because she had never treated him like a stranger.
"Darren, could it be that she is switching strategies since the old ones failed? Maybe she is pretending not to care so that you will chase her." Zoey broke into his thoughts as she leaned closer and spoke in a low voice.
Without turning toward her, Darren gave a quiet order to the man beside him. "Brice, take Miss Murray home." His tone was clipped and devoid of warmth, and then he headed after Millie without hesitation.
By the time he caught up, she had already reached Ruben's private room and was about to push the door open. Suddenly, he seized her again, pressed her back against the wall beside the doorway, and trapped her there with his body blocking any escape.
The moment his fingers brushed against her, Millie stiffened, and her body shifted into guarded alertness.
Lowering his voice, Darren glanced toward the door. "Do you want to wake your brother?" he asked.
At those words, she froze, and disbelief flashed across her face. "So Brice called me because you told him to, and you wanted me to walk in on my brother in that state?"
Without offering any apology, Darren met her stare head-on. "I did it because I needed you to face reality."
A bitter laugh escaped her, though there was no humor in it. "Are you planning to use Morgan Group as leverage so I will surrender?" Millie asked. "If that is your plan, then you should stop now, because I will not give you what you want."
Instead of answering directly, Darren lifted his hand and moved it toward her cheek. Before his fingers could reach her, Millie tilted her head away and denied him even that small contact.
Something in her expression had turned hard, and the softness that once lingered there had long since disappeared. Even after their wedding, she had never spoken to him with such cold finality, and that difference struck him more sharply than any insult.
A slow breath left him as his gaze deepened. "Good," he said at last. "I am curious to see how far you can take this."
With that, he stepped back and walked away.
Silence settled after his footsteps faded, and Millie let her back rest against the cold wall as she struggled to steady the storm inside her chest. For several seconds, she remained there, forcing her breathing to slow until her pulse no longer raced. Once she gathered enough strength, she straightened up, turned the handle, and stepped into the room. Inside, Ruben was bent forward and clutching his abdomen as sweat soaked through his shirt, and the strain on his face made it clear that he was barely holding on.
"Ruben!"
...
Before the night was over, Millie had already rushed Ruben to the hospital and refused to leave his side. Only then did she learn the full truth, because he had been drinking day after day just to secure investors, and his stomach had been bleeding for quite some time without proper treatment.
Right there in the hospital corridor, she insisted that he remain admitted, and she also made up her mind that she would personally step in to handle Morgan Group's crisis.
Although Ruben tried to shield Millie from the mess and told her he did not want her involved, she would not retreat, and her resolve left him with no choice but to let her take a chance.
While they were heading to the restaurant the next evening, Jonathan approached her and carefully placed a folder in her hands. In a cautious tone, he said, "Ms. Morgan, this file contains detailed information about Mr. James, the client we are scheduled to meet tonight. Mr. Morgan has spoken with him several times in the past, but the man is extremely calculating, and his demands are high. I do not believe this discussion will be simple."
Understanding flickered in Millie's eyes as she accepted the folder from him. "I am aware of the situation," she replied calmly. "Convincing anyone to step forward and support Morgan Group at a time like this was never going to be simple."
Long before this meeting, she had already measured the depth of the crisis and braced herself for whatever resistance might come.
Guided by a server, the two of them made their way down the hallway toward the private room that had been reserved.
Just outside the door, Millie paused briefly and drew in a steady breath. Composure settled over her features, and a polished smile replaced the tension on her face as she reached for the handle and pushed the heavy door inward.
Bright light spilled across the room, and at the head of the long table sat the man she had come to see, Walter James, who was speaking animatedly with someone beside him.
Leaning back with careless ease, that companion held a cigarette between his fingers as smoke curled upward. Recognition struck her instantly because the man seated there was Darren.
Without warning, Millie's stomach tightened, and a chill traveled through her chest.
