“How long can my grandmother remain?” With urgency lacing her voice, Millie inquired, The doctor’s reply, a sobering revelation, drifted forth. “A week, at most.”

The news hit Millie like a sudden downpour, casting shadows of despondency that swayed her balance and threatened to sweep her into the abyss of unconsciousness.

It took her a drawn-out spell to regain her footing and steady her spirit.

“Grant me the grace of contemplation,” she softly beseeched, her voice a whisper carried on wings of vulnerability.

A gust of self-doubt surged through her. She hadn’t been able to persuade Leon into operating on her grandmother.

She approached the ICU with cautious steps, her gaze woven with concem. There, her grandmother lay—a delicate masterpiece in the sterile room’s tableau. Tubes and wires adorned her, a symphony of science against nature’s fate. Millie felt her grandmother’s pain, the melodies of discomfort within her.

Meanwhile, in Marcus’ room, sleep eluded him all night. Millie was an intoxicating presence in his thoughts. The room murmured her name—a hidden chorus of longing and nostalgia.

Down his contemplative path, Marcus settled in the living room. Celeste’s recurring words echoed. “Without that wicked enchantress, this dwelling exudes delight.”

Marcus remained seated, his gaze narrowed in thought, a realm of contemplation unbeknownst to Celeste.

Celeste’s demeanor froze momentarily. Millie’s departure had brought her joy, yet Marcus appeared untouched by mirth. Did he yet hold Millie in high regard?

“Marcus, Millie is a repository of artifice. A multitude of virtuous women exist, ones surpassing her.” Observing Marcus’ silence, Celeste offered solace.

Had sleep eluded him the prior night? He had dark circles under his eyes. Such a malevolent woman Millie had revealed herself to be! She ensnared Marcus, Celeste pondered internally.

“Have you not witnessed the sinister nature that she conceals? Yesterday’s theater of deception was her masterpiece, an endeavor that ensnared me in its snare, a fishbone of treachery nearly claiming my breath.”

A contemplative silence draped the room. Marcus’ lips formed a pensive seal. Was Millie truly a maestro of malevolence?

Millie embodied an unwavering resolve. Despite his caution against seeking vengeance, she chose to retaliate openly. It seemed she held little regard for his counsel.

Reflecting on this, he declared, “There is no space for malevolence within these walls.”

Ironically, he had teetered on the brink of becoming ensnared by an unscrupulous woman.

Upon hearing this, Celeste’s shoulders eased with relief.

Marcus rose from his seat, bypassing breakfast, and headed directly to the office.

Adorning a fresh outfit, Rhea carried the apology letter to the Thomas Group.

Her knuckles rapped softly on the CEO’s office door.

“Enter,” Marcus’ voice echoed.

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