# Chapter 70: A Deadly Game in the Dark
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 70 of "The Housemaids Secret." And oh, what a chapter this is—tense, terrifying, and absolutely impossible to put down. If you thought the storm outside was the only thing raging, just wait until you step inside this pitch-black penthouse, where two women are playing a game of cat and mouse with nothing but anger, fear, and blood between them. Let's dive in.
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I called out into the darkness, my voice trembling and thin: "Millie?"
Nothing. Not a single sound.
Again I called her name, my throat tightening with every second of silence. No answer. And that's when I understood—she wasn't hiding. She was toying with me. She knew exactly where I was, and she was letting me sweat. She must hate me. And honestly? She has every right to. She was trying to help me, and I pinned everything on her. I used her kindness, her trust, her very good heart—and I made it way too easy for her to see through me.
Then, out of nowhere, my friend Audrey's warning came screaming back into my mind: *She's hardcore, believe me—she's dangerous.*
Millie is extremely dangerous. That much is crystal clear now.
And I have made an enemy of her.
"Millie," I squeaked out, desperate, pathetic. "Please listen to me. I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did. But you have to know, Douglas was abusive. I was telling you the truth."
Far across the room, glass shattered. I jerked my head toward the sound. Unless Millie had night-vision goggles, she had to be just as blind as I was in this suffocating blackness. And maybe—just maybe—I could use that to my advantage.
So I kept talking, hoping my voice would buy me time. "Douglas did all these terrible things to me. He was horrific as a husband. I needed to get out of that marriage. You have to understand..."
Still nothing. But I could feel her rage radiating through the darkness like heat from a fire. I had messed with the wrong woman.
"Millie," I pressed on, my voice cracking, "you have to know, I wasn't faking it. And your kindness to me... it meant everything. I had to do what I did."
Then—flash of lightning. Bright enough to show me a clean shot at the kitchen. The kitchen, filled with knives and other things I could theoretically use as a weapon, even if she had already taken my phone.
To hell with reasoning with that psychopath. If she wanted a fight, she was going to get one.
I sprinted. Behind me, I heard her footsteps picking up speed, but I didn't stop. I kept my arms stretched out in front of me, praying I wouldn't slam headfirst into a wall. By the grace of God, I made it through the doorway. I scrambled past the small kitchen table, desperately trying not to trip over it. I cleared that hurdle... and then my feet slipped out from under me.
Blood. All over the floor.
It had to be Russell's blood—tracked in here by the soles of her shoes. When I closed my eyes, I could still see him lying in the bathroom, his throat slit, his eyes staring at nothing. Millie had done that to him. And he wasn't even the one she truly hated. I couldn't even imagine what she had in store for me.
But I was not going to give her the chance. I was going to go down swinging. She might be tough, but so was I.
I scrambled to my feet, my right hip throbbing from the fall. I felt my way along the kitchen counter, my fingers blindly searching for the knife block. I was sure I'd seen it there earlier. Please be here. Please.
My hands came up empty. Nothing. Not a single weapon. Of course—Millie was too smart for that. I had only managed to fool her before because she had trusted me. But now she knew my game, and she had already anticipated every move I might make. She had already murdered one person tonight, and she fully intended to make me her next victim.
I groped further, reaching for the stove. I was certain I'd seen a frying pan on it. If I could just grab it and swing it hard enough, maybe—just maybe—I could take her down. It was my only chance.
But then I heard the footsteps behind me. Getting closer.
Too close.
Oh God. She's in the kitchen with me.
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And that's how Chapter 70 leaves us—frozen in the dark, heart pounding, with Millie in the same room as Wendy, and nowhere left to run.
As a reader, I have to say: this chapter is absolutely gripping. The terror is so real you can taste it. Wendy's desperation, her guilt, her survival instinct—it all bleeds through every word. The way Millie's silence speaks louder than any threat is chilling. You can feel the predator-prey dynamic shift, and you know that Wendy's only hope is blind luck and a little bit of lightning.
I'm giving this chapter a solid **⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars**.
For the next chapter, my prediction is that Millie's mask will fully come off. She's not going to let Wendy talk her way out of this one. There's going to be a brutal, desperate struggle in that dark kitchen—and whether Wendy survives might depend on something neither of them expected. Maybe a power cut, maybe a surprise third person, or maybe Wendy finally finding something to fight back with. One thing is certain: not everyone is walking out of that apartment alive.
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