King had no rush to go after her. If it were before he knew her identity, he might have rushed forward, but now that he knew his woman was no simple figure, he planned to take things slow. With a subtle smile playing on his lips, he quietly turned and left.
Meanwhile, Milly's terrifying addiction was escalating by the day. She could no longer feel satisfied by her private maid, and the uncontrollable cravings would strike at any moment. It was as if her soul no longer belonged to her, completely possessed by an overwhelming compulsion. Yet, her towering ego refused to let her stoop so low as to go begging King for relief.
Just days ago, she had tried to trap and manipulate him—how could she ever admit to herself that she was now hopelessly addicted to women? It was the most humiliating, absurd nightmare that could happen to a high-society heiress.
