Chapter 339:
Brandon stood stone-still, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel as he locked eyes with Giffard.
The air between them felt charged, every breath drawn taut with silent hostility, as though the slightest spark might ignite a fight right there.
Just then, Millie stepped out, her heels clicking on the pavement. She shot the men a look, exasperated and tired. “Giffard, let’s go,” she said, her voice steady but low.
As she reached for the car door, Brandon’s hand shot out, fingers closing around her wrist.
In an instant, Giffard moved in, catching her other arm with a grip just as firm. Millie’s brow furrowed, a trace of impatience flashing across her face. “What are you two doing?”
Neither man replied. They only stared at her, silent and stubborn, as if daring her to pick a side.
She shook off Brandon’s hold first, then turned to face Giffard. “Giffard,” she called out.
For a split second, something flickered in Giffard’s eyes—a flash of disappointment, quickly hidden. He released her wrist and stepped back, jaw tight, refusing to let his emotions show.
“Let’s go,” Millie murmured, her tone steady. “It’s late.”
Without another glance at Brandon, she slid back into the car.
Giffard slipped behind the wheel, his movements quiet and deliberate, while Brandon stood alone beneath the dim streetlight, eyes icy and unyielding as he watched her leave.
Millie pressed the window switch, shutting out his penetrating stare. The ride home unfolded in heavy silence, the shadow of Brandon’s car trailing them in the rearview like a warning that refused to fade.
Outside, the streetlights cast jittery halos across the windshield, their stark glow making the night feel claustrophobic and tense. Restlessness gnawed at Millie as she stared at the passing blur of lights.
When they finally arrived at her apartment building, Giffard put the car in park and stepped out to escort her inside.
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At the elevator, Millie paused, turning to meet his patient gaze.
“Giffard, I mean it—thanks for everything today,” she said, her lips curving in a tired but genuine smile. “Let me buy you dinner next time.”
Giffard lowered his gaze, his voice steady but distant. “I’ll walk you up, that’s all. Just wanna make sure you’re safe,” he responded calmly.
Millie nodded. If she invited him inside and even allowed him to linger, Brandon would almost certainly react—but she wasn’t interested in more conflict.
Their divorce decree would be finalized tomorrow; the last thing she needed now was to add fuel to the gossip mill.
She felt nothing romantic for Giffard and didn’t want their friendship misread. Just then, the low growl of a Maybach engine echoed nearby. Millie shook her head, refusing Giffard’s offer.
As Brandon’s car rolled to a stop, he burst out, only to see Giffard lightly patting Millie’s shoulder while she stepped into the elevator.
The doors began to slide shut just as Brandon approached, catching a brief glimpse of Millie’s composed profile before she disappeared from view. Brandon lunged forward, hand reaching for the call button, but Giffard’s grip on his wrist stopped him cold.
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