Chapter 376

Chapter 376:
Whether it was the alcohol, the sleepless nights, or both, his head spun, and his thoughts were clouded.
It didn’t matter to him that Millie was mad at him over Vivian. Right now, all he wanted was to see her walk out of that room.
But the music next door was still blaring, and through the wall, he could even hear Alexia’s off-key singing and Millie’s laughter. It only made him feel worse. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ.net
Meanwhile, someone had tipped off the paparazzi after spotting Millie at the Blue Lounge. They waited, and soon enough, the scene outside the private rooms gave them what they wanted. They couldn’t get close, but from a distance, they captured photographs of the argument.
The photos and gossip spread quickly online, even overtaking the latest buzz about Serena. #MillieAtBlueLounge, #MillieAndBrandonBothFoolingAround, #BrandonDiningWithVivianWhileMilliePartiesAtBlueLounge.
The Internet was ablaze.
“Whoa, looks like Millie’s done playing the quiet wife!”
“This drama’s better than TV. Keep it coming!”
“Can’t wait for the next twist!”
“Don’t care who’s right—I just want the show!”
“Honestly, none of them seem great, but at least Vivian stands for something.”
Vivian stared at her screen, fuming. The cup in her hand slammed onto the table.
She should’ve gone to the Blue Lounge with Brandon. Millie had probably been waiting, keeping tabs through Darden. That conniving woman!
Vivian had thought Millie had given up, but no. She was lying low, planning her comeback.
Vivian’s hands trembled with anger. She reached for her phone to make a call but stopped herself. Instead, she pulled out a second phone and dialed a different line.
The call connected.
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“What is it?” a voice answered.
“The information I asked for earlier—what’s the update? Did the person survive?” Vivian asked, deliberately lowering her voice to a hoarse rasp.
“You mean the person who got hit outside the city?” The sound of typing followed. “Hang on.”
A few moments passed. “He survived. Barely. The prognosis isn’t good. He’s in a vegetative state. Might wake up, but chances are slim.”
“Understood,” she said, ending the call.
She turned the phone off and let out a long breath, finally relaxing.
At the Elliott Mansion, Myron sat with a kitten curled beside him, skimming through a stack of reports. Across the room, Jayceon was raging over a losing streak.
“Ugh! Lost again! Trash game, useless teammates!” he yelled, tossing the console aside and grabbing his phone to scroll through video reels. But a few clips in, he suddenly sat upright, coughing. “Gosh! Myron!” He hurried over, holding out his phone.
“Look at this! Millie’s really out there tonight! I bet Brandon’s losing his mind!” But then he paused, remembering something. “Right… Sorry. I forgot about the whole failed proposal this morning.”
Myron glanced at the screen, adjusted his glasses, and let out a soft chuckle.
“You’re not mad?” Jayceon asked, peeking at his brother.
.
.
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