Chapter 1332:

Did that mean someone who knew the truth would show up on the island next March?

And if so… how could Wade be so certain of their arrival?

Two scenarios began to form in Millie’s mind.

Either Wade already knew the person and had received word they intended to go, or the individual was a regular—maybe even someone who helped orchestrate the gathering.

Millie’s thoughts raced like a runaway train.

She remembered the charity auction earlier that year—the moment she revealed herself, and the way Napier had summoned her soon after.

Did Napier know what lay on that island? If she asked him directly, would he finally tell her the truth?

Her eyes lowered, already anticipating the answer.

Slim chance.

Napier had carried the weight of his eldest son’s death in silence for years. Why would he suddenly confide in her now?

“Millie,” Myron said, squeezing her hand with steady reassurance.

“I’ll look into it. I’ll be careful. Don’t worry too much.”

Millie met his gaze and returned the squeeze, drawing a small comfort from his touch.

The night deepened, folding the world into shadows. Eventually, Millie lay down.

Dressed in soft pajamas, she stared at the ceiling, her mind too crowded to let sleep take her.

Time crawled, slow as molasses, until she finally drifted off—only to be trapped in a relentless nightmare.

Again and again, she relived the day her father died.

She stood in front of the building, frozen, watching him plummet from the high-rise and crash into the pavement below. Blood and chaos burst outward, painting the scene in horror.

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕟 𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝: g𝖺𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧼ⅽ𝗈𝗺

“Millie? Millie…” a voice whispered through the darkness.

Millie jolted awake, her heart hammering. Myron was leaning over her, worry etched into his face.

“You had a nightmare,” he murmured, offering her a tissue to wipe away the nervous sweat beading on her forehead.

Millie looked at him, but all she could see were her father’s unseeing eyes—haunted, anguished, and still unable to find peace.

Meanwhile, in a desolate stretch outside the city—far from prying eyes or cameras—Brandon drove with Vivian beside him. His face was set in anger, every line drawn tight with fury as the car cut through the darkness.

Vivian’s screams shredded the night.

“Shut up!” Brandon barked, but her cries only rose higher, undeterred.

“If you keep screaming, you’ll never make another sound again!” Brandon roared.

Vivian immediately clamped her hands over her mouth, silenced by fear.

The car pulled into another secluded spot, where Eugene and the others were already waiting. They surrounded the vehicle at once.

Vivian was yanked out without a word.

.

.

.