Chapter 565
Chapter 565:
Elliott Mansion loomed behind them, its entrance ringed with Myron’s security team. With a subtle gesture, Myron gave the order, and his people closed in, restraining Brandon with practiced efficiency.
“We should go,” Millie murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, never glancing in Brandon’s direction.
“Of course.” Myron nodded, offering a gentle touch to her wrist, soothing the angry marks Brandon had left behind. Together, they headed for the waiting Bentley.
It wasn’t far to the car. Myron circled to the passenger side, opened the door, and braced his hand against the frame, making sure she entered safely. “Millie.”
Just as she reached for the passenger door, Brandon’s voice rose up behind her once more. Her reflexes took over, and she lifted her eyes to meet his.
That gentle tone—soft, weighted with longing—echoed memories from better days. She remembered telling him once how much she cherished the way her parents used to speak so lovingly to each other, and how she wanted that tenderness between them, too. But after setting her heart on this new path, Millie hadn’t let herself soften for him again.
“It’s not what you think with Vivian,” Brandon’s words drifted over the space between them. “I only need a little more time. There’s still four months—”
Millie broke eye contact, slid into the car, and left his words behind. Myron stepped up and shut her door with care before moving around to the driver’s side. Pausing for a heartbeat, he turned toward her with a gentle smile.
“Just wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Alright,” she replied quietly, nodding her assent.
Myron gently eased the door closed before making his way back toward Brandon. Silence stretched as their stares collided.
Drawing the pocket square from his jacket, Myron carefully wiped Brandon’s tears away before slipping the fabric into Brandon’s coat pocket.
“She belongs with me now,” Myron declared coolly, each syllable distinct and unwavering. “If you have tears to shed, Vivian’s the one you should go to. Don’t disgrace yourself by breaking down in front of the woman who’s mine.”
“Myron!” Brandon’s voice cracked with emotion.
Desperation filled Brandon’s eyes, raw and inflamed. He lunged forward, but Myron’s men gripped him tightly, pinning him firmly in place.
“You’ve spent forever telling me you needed time, claiming you had your reasons,” Myron said softly, his eyes steady, voice controlled. He then leaned closer, his voice turning hard as stone. “But none of your reasons justify causing her this kind of pain.”
Brandon struggled furiously, pulling uselessly against their hold. Myron merely observed, indifferent to Brandon’s desperation.
“You seem blind to your own actions, so let me refresh your memories. Competing with her viciously over the tanzanite, standing idly by as Vivian tormented her relentlessly on Heavenly Melody, refusing to give her the peace she deserved—those actions only scratch the surface of what you’ve done. You still have no idea how much you’ve thrown away. But the day will come when you understand exactly what you’ve lost, and on that day, resentment won’t haunt you—only the bitter truth that you deserved every bit of this.”
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