Chapter 272

Chapter 272:
Lifting the instrument to her chin, she let her fingers dance across the strings. The tune she played was fiery, fast-paced, its rhythm pulsing with raw energy. Under Millie’s deft fingers, the violin became a living thing, channeling her spirit and will.
The familiar notes of Bullfight filled the room, a song everyone knew well. Millie had reworked the melody, letting her violin shriek and soar, each note ricocheting through the hall like raucous laughter.
By the time she finished, the vibrant, biting music had shattered the tension and left the crowd bursting into applause.
It wasn’t just a bullfight song—it was a bullfighter’s march.
And with Millie wielding the bow, the roles were obvious.
Babette, soaked in red wine and humiliated, was the bull on parade.
Brandon, demanding apologies without a clue, was swept up in the spectacle as well.
Millie’s performance was a wicked, wordless taunt aimed at both of them. She dipped into a crisp bow and then rose to find someone watching from the far end of the hall—a man raising his glass, amusement dancing in his eyes.
He’d seen right through her game.
Between them, her jab needed no explanation. Chapters first released on.net
Millie’s lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile as she gently set the violin aside and turned to face Babette, who looked ready to explode.
“Did that meet your expectations?” Millie asked, her tone laced with playful sweetness.
Babette instantly caught the dig beneath Millie’s words. Seething, she started to lunge forward, but Brandon stepped between them, blocking her path.
“That’s enough, Babette,” Brandon muttered sharply, a warning edge in his voice. He knew one more outburst would truly bring the whole party crashing down.
Babette understood that too—and she certainly didn’t want Brandon digging into what she’d grilled Millie about in Flesta earlier.
With no way to vent her fury, she glared at Millie’s faint, mocking smile, her hatred simmering just beneath the surface.
“It was just a little accident,” Babette finally admitted, smiling with stiff lips and clenched teeth. “Things like that happen at wine-tasting parties.”
Millie spun on her heel and strode off without another glance.
“Millie.” Brandon caught her wrist, but she yanked free, spine stiff with resolve.
“Next time, if you plan on bringing Vivian, let me know in advance,” Millie declared, enunciating each word with icy precision. “I refuse to share a room with your mistress. It makes me…” Her gaze flicked to Vivian, full of disdain.
“Sick.”
“Millie!” Brandon barked, warning and fury threading his voice.
But Millie just leveled him with a freezing stare.
One look was all it took—she walked away, head high, gown swishing behind her, not bothering to look back.
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