The screen played back the moment she sneaked into the study, cunningly switching two documents with the stealth of a cat burglar.
But that was just the tip of the iceberg. There were also recordings of her lording over Beverley, hurling verbal missiles and acting like she owned the place.
Millie was caught off guard, dumbstruck.
Was it the shock from the videos, or the sting from the man's unyielding slaps?
"I thought you were just a garden-variety narcissist, shallow and short-sighted, but you're a chronic liar, bitter and mean, stirring the pot, trying to drive wedges between people."
"Slapping you was to snap you back to reality, to cut off those delusions of grandeur. It was also a warning – cut the drama, or else—"
Murray's eyes narrowed, his tone dark as a storm cloud.
"You'll find there are fates far worse than death in this world."
Millie instinctively stepped back, her fear so intense that the burning pain on her cheeks seemed trivial.
"Murray, please, I—I didn't mean to..."
Murray remained silent, his expression unreadable.
"I'll go to Beverley myself, apologize. She can yell, she can hit, I won't fight back! Just as long as she forgives me, I'll do whatever it takes."
Still, Murray said nothing.
Panicked, Millie started sobbing uncontrollably. "I didn't do it on purpose, maybe it's the hormones from the pregnancy messing with my emotions, that's why I acted that way towards Beverley..."
Murray watched her pitiful display, tears streaming down her face, looking every bit the victim.
"Are you done?"
Millie paused.
"Have you cried enough?"
"Murray..."
"If you're done, if you've cried enough, then pack your bags."
"What? What do you mean?"
Murray cracked a cold smile: "Did you think I was joking when I told you to leave? Letting you stay this long was more than generous."
"No! You can't do this to me!" Millie sobbed harder, her earlier fear now dwarfed by the panic of being thrown out.
"I'm carrying your child, you can't just kick me out!"
Murray didn't even flinch at her protest, immediately dialing security.
"No...I won't leave..."
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