Chapter 427:
“I’ve always understood your deepest longing for a genuine home,” he called after her with desperate urgency. “You transformed our house into something breathtakingly beautiful with your careful attention and love. I treasured having you constantly near me, and I became completely dependent on your presence. Once Vivian’s out of the picture… surely we could build a future filled with happiness together? We could create the home you’ve always dreamed of and raise our children. And that tanzanite stone you picked out…”
The harsh, clinical white light of the hospital corridor bathed everything in its unforgiving glow.
He claimed perfect knowledge of her heart’s desire—understood completely that she yearned only for a loving home filled with a devoted partner and children’s laughter.
Yet he had systematically destroyed every fragment of that dream with his own ruthless hands.
Rage erupted through Millie’s carefully maintained control, and she could no longer contain the inferno consuming her from within.
She whirled around and advanced toward him with purposeful strides, her right hand rising like a weapon seeking justice.
Smack!
The sound of her palm connecting with his face exploded through the hallway, sharp and unforgiving.
He did not attempt to evade her strike, simply regarding her with eyes that reflected nothing but profound sorrow and acceptance.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
With her eyes blazing crimson and her teeth clenched so tightly, Millie continued striking him across the face with relentless fury, each blow landing with devastating precision.
She detested everything about this moment—despised his manipulative tactics, hated her own crushing powerlessness, resented being trapped at his mercy while he forced her to endure this prolonged agony.
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The sharp percussion of flesh meeting flesh continued echoing through the sterile corridor in a rhythm that matched her breaking heart.
She lost all awareness of how many times her hand found his face, but eventually, she registered that his features had already begun swelling grotesquely, and crimson blood now trickled steadily from the corner of his mouth. When her palm encountered the warm wetness during subsequent strikes, droplets scattered across his skin, creating vivid red stains that marked her fury.
He never once attempted to shield himself from her assault, merely watched her through increasingly reddened eyes.
Finally, Millie clenched her trembling hand into stillness, her words completely exhausted.
She wrestled her chaotic emotions back into submission, refused to grant him even one more glance, and turned to walk away from the wreckage of their confrontation.
Millie rounded the corner, her hands trembling despite being tightly clenched. Still, she kept walking. After a few more steps, she turned and entered the restroom.
She switched on the faucet, squeezed out some liquid soap, and began washing the blood off her hands.
.
.
.