Chapter 268
Chapter 268:
Millie, once a noble heiress herself, understood what it meant to shoulder family legacy and ambition. She also knew that Babette wanted to make her own mark in the Watson family’s history. But that didn’t give her the right to project all of her resentment onto someone else.
“Is that what you told Brandon?” Babette asked coldly.
Millie didn’t respond.
She and Brandon rarely discussed what had happened back in Flesta. The pain of losing the child she had been carrying was something neither of them could bear to relive.
“Tell me, what really happened in Flesta?” Babette pressed, her voice rising. “Why is everyone so secretive about it? I asked Egbert. He said nothing. I asked Brandon. He wouldn’t talk either. And that wine—why is it called ‘Miss’? Did he make it for you?”
Millie looked at her. “I don’t know anything about the wine. As for what happened in Flesta, it wasn’t as dramatic as you imagine. Just a complicated situation that involved some of Egbert’s personal matters. If you want answers, ask him.”
“I want you to tell me!” Babette stepped closer, her breathing uneven, the gemstones at her throat trembling.
Millie exhaled softly. “He has the right to decide what he wants to share.”
The reckless risks of the past now seemed like the impulsive choices of youth. Egbert might have been just a bold and calculating young man when she challenged him, but he was the head of a conglomerate now—definitely not someone to provoke lightly. And certainly, not someone she intended to offend.
Babette narrowed her eyes at Millie. “So, you’ve decided to abandon the Bennett family?”
Millie took a step forward, closing the space between them.
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“Is that a threat?” she asked, her voice cold.
Babette gave a low, mirthless laugh. “Hasn’t it always been a threat?”
Millie’s eyes narrowed. “I thought this was a negotiation.”
Babette sneered. “You’re just a woman clinging to the Watson family to survive. What makes you think you have the right to negotiate with me?”
As she spoke, she waved her phone, the screen lit with a message from Vivian. Then she pointed toward a side door, where Brandon stood, deep in conversation—with Vivian. Even dressed plainly, there was no mistaking her.
Millie’s lips curled faintly. Just moments ago, Brandon had refused Vivian’s calls in front of her. And now, here he was, bringing her in person.
“Brandon hasn’t loved you for a long time,” Babette said flatly. “Your time in the Watson family is almost up. What are you planning to do—wait for Vivian to die, pretend nothing happened, and then keep playing the role of Mrs. Watson? It’s not going to happen. Trust me.”
But Millie didn’t look away. Her eyes were still fixed on Brandon, who leaned in close to Vivian, pointing at something on her phone. Their closeness, even in the dim light, was unmistakable.
“Had enough?” Babette asked, her voice cutting. “Vivian and I are working together. Taking over the Bennett family’s remaining ties inside the Watson Group will be easy.”
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