Chapter 276

The other three exchanged glances. Mylo, a smirk playing on his lips, gestured towards Millie outside.

“Invite her in, please. I'd like to try the drink she made.”

Fanny’s expression soured. Of all the waitresses here, only Millie rivaled her beauty.

The moment Millie had walked in on her first day, Fanny had felt a sense of unease.

“all she prepared was common honey lemonade. It’s hardly innovative. Plus, she’s new here, which is why the manager

assigned me to this room.”

Her words suggested that she was the cream of the crop among the waitstaff, while Millie was simply a novice who lacked in

proper service.

Suddenly, Marcus looked up from his phone and posed a question. “Does asking you to call her over seem to bother you?”

A quiet pause hung in the air for a beat before Fanny dropped her gaze.

“My apologies. I'll go get her now.”

Emerging from the private room, Fanny looked around to find Millie, brimming with resentment.

Fanny delivered her words, though burdened with reluctance and revulsion. “Millie, carry your beverage to that private room.

Someone wants you there.”

In that very moment, as Millie turned, her eyes met a countenance brimming with envy and animosity aimed directly at her.

Unfazed by the underlying hostility, Millie replied with detached indifference,

“Aren't you the one overseeing that room?”

“Indeed, you possess a charm that captivates even from afar, for they made it a point to request your modest beverage, despite

my diligent efforts to craft mine.”

As Fanny complained, her eyes fleetingly glanced at the liquid on Millie’s tray, a tinge of frustration surging within her. How could

so many individuals appreciate something that appeared so commonplace? Were their eyes veiled in blindness?

As the thought of Marcus’ presence in the room occupied her mind, Millie felt an ominous foreboding. Was he scheming to make

things difficult for her?

As Fanny observed Millie’s evident displeasure upon receiving this news, her smile suddenly halted, and her nails pressed into

her palm, a sensation of resentment gnawing at her.

She thought Millie was feigning an air of superiority.

“Do you suffer from aural impairment? Then make haste; why the pretense?”

Fanny’s wrathful demeanor urged Millie, who, in response, quirked the corner of her mouth sarcastically and shook her head.

“When angered, you bear a most wretched countenance,” she coolly remarked.