Chapter 843

Resting her head upon Marcus’ shoulder, she discovered an anchorage as substantial as a mountain,

his aura a source of unwavering support.

Her eyelids found solace in closure as she inhaled his comforting essence, eventually succumbing to

slumber upon his sturdy perch.

In the twilight hours, Millie stirred, awakening to an unoccupied chamber. Donning attire, she

disembarked from the bed.

Below, a cacophony of activity persisted, though her attention remained undrawn, attributing the

commotion to the arrival of one of Marcus’ comrades.

Venturing onto the balcony, she gazed into the distant expanse, a tableau of unexpectedness

interjecting the scene as an unannounced guest infiltrated the chamber.

“Millie, word of your poisoning reached my ears. How remiss of you to acquaint yourself with the

venomous blossoms of the tripterygium wilfordii. Exercise caution in the days ahead, lest a reckoning

befall you.”

Rhea intoned, her smile harboring a sinister undercurrent.

Indeed, Rhea had returned. Her resurgence served only one purpose: to imbue Millie’s ordeal with the

cruel currency of mockery.

The catalyst for her reappearance was the retrieval of a misplaced necklace.

Millie’s countenance, not yet fully restored to its former vitality, abruptly assumed a frigid pallor.

Astonishment coursed through her veins-Rhea had dared to reappear!

Swiveling on her heel, despite her compromised state of well-being, Millie’s gaze gleamed with an

incisive acuity.

“The effrontery of a malefactor knows no bounds. Cease this charade. It was your hand that introduced

the venomous pollen into my drink. Yet, alas for you, your endeavors have yielded nothing. I stand

unscathed.” Millie’s voice dripped with disdain as she hurled her verdict.

With no witnesses to her discourse, Rhea pivoted with haughty audacity. “And so what if it were me?

Do you presume me to be that imbecilic? The dosage of pollen was scrupulously measured. Had it Led

to your demise, I would have inevitably found myself incarcerated. This, my dear, is but a trifling

reckoning you’ve earned,” Rhea proclaimed, her arrogance steeped in a nauseating sense of self-

satisfaction. Millie’s pallor only fueled her vindictive elation.

A trifling punishment indeed. In solitude, it could have inflicted excruciating torment upon Millie,

perhaps even yielding her ultimate demise.

Within Rhea’s psyche, malevolence churned. Her visage still veiled in a frosty veneer, Millie embarked

on a deliberate progression towards Rhea.

Rhea’s lips curled into a sneer. “What’s this? A proclivity for violence? Let me enlighten you: Marcus is

conveniently stationed downstairs. Lay a finger on me, and I shall promptly seek solace in his arms.”

Unforeseen, Millie’s hand brushed against an adjacent vessel, precipitating a clamor that inevitably

seized the attention of the gentleman beneath. Hastened strides punctuated his ascent up the

staircase.

Out of the blue, Millie cradled her abdomen, a change in her demeanor divergent from her customary

comportment, fingers contorted around her midriff.

“It pains… Assist me,” she entreated, her voice tremulous.

Today, she intended to subject Rhea to a taste of her own malevolence, ensnaring her inescapably

within her ploys. Rhea was well-versed in the art of sordid stratagems, leveraging manipulation and

falsification to orchestrate her designs.

“Millie, what art thou about?” Rhea faltered, her step recoiling. “Rhea, what nefarious scheme have you

contrived once more? By what authorization did you ascend to this domain?”

Abruptly, Rhea found herself curtailed by Marcus, his grip unyielding on her shoulder, and he promptly

expelled her. Rhea collided with the wall, her frame shuddering and her bones nearly fracturing from

the impact.