Chapter 7
1318 Words
CHAPTER 7
NEW HOME.
———♠———
They say weddings are usually the longest memorable day in ones life, but for Millicent, it was all in a blur.
The last thing she had remembered after panicking about it, was leaving hours later and drinking bottles of alcohol to wash her sorrows which evidently seemed to have followed her till the next day.
Luckily for her, she didn't set eyes on Angelo after the dance. The driver had brought her further inside the vast estate while the Butler showed her the room she'd stay in.
The same room she was currently waking up into with a banging headache and severe hangover.
“Ahh,” she hissed, groaning slightly at the throbbing pain in her head while she blinked against the brightness of the morning sunlight that bathed the master bedroom.
Still groaning, she turned her head toward the other side of the bed, wanting to ease the pain away, but rather she was met with a perfectly uncreased edge of the bed. And that seemed to take her mind off the pain for a brief moment as smething twisted faintly in her chest at the sight of that perfectly made empty side of the bed.
It felt like a reminder. A reminder of exactly where she stood in this house, in this marriage and in his eyes.
Nowhere.
Slowly, she sat up, wincing through the pain in her head while dragging her fingers through her tangled blonde hair.
And that was when she noticed it.
A small folded note resting on the nightstand.
“Hmm, that's strange,” Millicent murmured as she reached for it cautiously, unfolding it with mild curiosity.
She half expected it'd be from Angelo. The man hadn't even shown his face after their damn couple dance, but she won't put it past him to leave her a threatening note.
*Breakfast will be served in the east terrace at nine. Please dress accordingly. — Household Staff*
Dress accordingly? Millicent scoffed inwardly. She had no doubt Angelo had told them to write that part.
She huffed a quiet, humorless laugh and set the note aside. What did she expect anyway?
Millicent swung her legs off the bed, looking across the room. Her wedding dress lay discarded over the chaise where she'd left it last night, the red and gold fabric pooling like spilled wine on golden tile.
Just as she kept staring at the dress, her stomach dropped.
“The vial,” she gasped, silently hoping it hadn't been discovered.
Millicent rushed toward it, fingers trembling as she searched the hidden pocket sewn into the dress. The moment her fingers wrapped around a small tiny bottle, relief washed over her.
It was still intact.
She held it up to the light, watching the pale liquid swirl gently inside.
–Poison him… you'll give him a slow acting dose, it'll be untraceable.–
Her father's voice echoed cruelly in her mind, and for a moment, she felt sick.
She wasn't a killer, nor an assassin. She was just a desperate sister trying to save the only family she had left.
But that didn't change what she now held in her hand.
Quickly, she moved to her dressing table, sliding the vial behind a small velvet jewelry box that belonged to only God knows who.
She drew a breath, “Better there than in a dress I'll likely never wear again.”
Once it was hidden safely, she sat at the edge of the dressing chair, staring at her own reflection.
God, she looked exhausted, even after sleeping, faint shadows still pooled beneath her eyes and her face looked paler than usual.
It was probably the tumor, or the stress. Or probably just both.
“Three months now feels more like two and a half,” she whispered to herself, leaning closer toward the mirror.
But she didn't have the time to think about that now. She had to plan and figure out how she was supposed to steal documents from a man who clearly hated her.
Millicent thought about the altar and his expression when he had lifted her veil.
–Welcome to your new hell, Cara.–
She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself despite the warmth of the room.
She had to save Luca. He needed her.
And she was stuck here, trapped with a man who wanted nothing more than to watch her burn.
Her phone buzzed suddenly against the table, jolting her from her thoughts.
*Unknown number.*
She frowned, hesitating slightly before swiping to answer. "Hello?"
Please Don't let it be Father… or Carlo.
"Millicent?" The voice made her to raise an eyebrow.
It was warm and familiar. So familiar that it was instantly recognizable despite the slight crackling noise on the line.
"Loris?" she breathed, relief flooding through her chest. "How did you get my number?"
She could practically hear the grin in his voice. "Stole it off Carlo's phone while he wasn't looking. Don't tell him, yeah? He'd throw a tantrum."
A genuine laugh slipped past her lips, surprising even herself. "Don't worry, I won't say a word."
"Good," he said, then his tone softened slightly, more careful now. "I just… wanted to check on you. You looked like you were barely holding it together when I came to meet you."
"I'm fine," she said softly, even though she could hear how unconvincing it sounded.
“I don't believe that. You ran off after the vows, cussed your husband openly to the wind and dreaded having to dance with him,” Loris chuckled. “I don't think I can call that *fine*. How are you… really.”
Her throat tightened unexpectedly. She hadn't realized just how desperately she needed someone, anyone, to simply ask if she was okay.
Loris exhaled slowly on the other end. "You don't have to pretend with me, Sis. Not after all that happened. We… we know everything. Silvio told us.”
Millicent closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the table. "It's… a lot," she admitted quietly. "But I'm managing."
"Lorenzo and Leonardo wanted me to check in too," he added. "We've been worried."
Worried.
When was the last time anyone in her family had used that word about her?
"Tell them I appreciate it," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly despite her best effort to keep it steady.
"We mean it, Millie," Loris said firmly. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it… call us. Okay?"
She swallowed hard against the sudden lump forming in her throat. "Okay."
"And try not to murder your husband on the first day, yeah? Wait at least till the honeymoon."
Despite everything, despite the heaviness pressing against her chest, she laughed unexpectedly. "No promises."
"That's the spirit," he chuckled. "Take care of yourself, sis. We'll talk soon."
"Thank you, Loris. Really."
"Anytime."
The call ended, and she lowered the phone slowly, staring blankly at the screen as she set it aside.
Millicent rose from the chair, smoothing her hands over the silk robe draped around her shoulders while she caught her own reflection one final time.
She had a mission.
A brother to save. A husband who hated her. And a tumor slowly stealing time she didn't have.
All she had to do was get the documents and poison Angelo, but would it be fair to betray him again?
Nothing was fair.
Not her living at his mercy, her being used by her family, her having just 3 months to live before her tumor eats her up completely.
And right now, at this point, Millicent knew she only had two options.
Seek Angelo's forgiveness or stab him in the back again to save her brother.
But what's the point in forgiveness from a man who'd never believe her?
She only had 3 months left anyway.
"Get it together, Millicent," she sighed, whispering to herself. "You've survived worse."
- Writer
