Novel & Cerita Milady Persona

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. -MILA- I stood in front of the full-length mirror inspecting my outfit of choice; a simple purple dress that sat about mid-thigh, I had teamed it with black heels.

Her face, unlike her thin body, has the roundness of youth. "Did you need something?" Mila asks me with an edge. Ignoring her, I smile kindly at Madison. "Hi there, I'm Katerina." Madison shuffles her ankles together and doesn't smile back. "Hi." Her voice is light as air. I glance down at her feet on the stairs. Her shoes are old and chewed up, one of them missing a part of the shoelace so the tongue flops loosely. Mila coughs in a clearly fake way. "Excuse us, we've got business to get to."

Her dream was growing, unfolding faster than she’d ever imagined. Liana stood near the main desk, her eyes moving over the lineup of gowns displayed on mannequins. Her fingers brushed the sleeve of a silk dress — one of her favorites, with a daring open back and a soft, flowing train. Every stitch felt personal, every cut deliberate. This was her voice, her identity made tangible. “Miss Carver,” Mila called, stepping in with her ever-present tablet. “You might want to sit down before I say this.” Liana turned, one brow raised. “That bad?”

Which is why I'm sure Alberto hired them to spy on me because he thought I would get along with these maids because they she-wolves. ' Hah! I'm not getting along with anyone. I need to do what I should do to get out of here,' I thought and looked at myself in the mirror. My complexion was much better than before. Scarlett brushed my hair and braided my hair in a single braid. Decorated it with flower pins and commented," Milady, you are so beautiful like a fairy. Are you actually a fairy descended from heaven?" " Ah, you flatter me. I'm just a hybrid who got her looks from vampire descendents!" I replied and allowed Scarlett to help me in dressing.

She raised her hand and fixed a rebellious lock of hair in front of her eyes. She sighed softly as she calmed down. She and Mirabelle really looked like two drops of water and she had the chance that nobody had: She was the look-alike of a princess and she should take advantage of it. She always knew how to differentiate her professional life from her personal life, so that's what she had to do... She was Mirabelle d'Orient, a princess and she should behave like one... Two knocks were heard at her door. She hurriedly closed the dressing room and took a good posture before allowing the one who had just knocked to enter... It was her two maids. Mila and Zora. Mirabelle had told her about them.

I ask out of curiosity. I feel really weird with their formality in here, even how they keep on calling me Milady, the bowing, those careful attitudes, and this place itself. All are making me feel so uncomfortable. It makes me feel like I am in a major fairy tale. What is only missing is a witch to make it a perfect fairy tale. “My name is Beth, Beth Casamero Milady.” She said still bowed and look so scared to look at me. She looks so humble and shy. She is also the same height as me even with those heels of her black shoes. She has a sand skin tone and her nose is slightly elongated. I can’t see her eyes and face clearly since she is bowed.

she stood up to leave. “ Hei wait” I stopped her. “ who are you?” “I'm you personal maid milady.” she bowed. “like your name? Are you a demon also?” She bent over and showed me her calf (the downward cross) “do you trust me now milady. That's the mark.” I smiled and she walked to the door. “wait!” I followed her.“ you didn't give your name.”

Chapter 3: Myla Five Years Later In a bustling restaurant, a woman sat alone in the corner, her presence commanding attention. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, swept the room, and her beauty was undeniable. Despite the soft elegance she exuded, there was something fiercely determined about her—something that made her seem unapproachable, untouchable. This was Mila, though she went by Myla now. Beside her sat a little girl, her legs swinging beneath the table, her eyes wide and bright as she gazed at her mother. The girl’s expression mirrored Mila’s own—sharp, observant, unyielding.

Rita said, simply and calmly. "Let me make something clear to you, Miss Bethany Madison. Makaila is nothing like you. You are just a bundle of stupidity, foolishness, fake body, bitchiness and Sultriness. Makaila on the other hand is a pretty girl with an open heart, very smart, brave and courageous girl. If you didn't know that, know it now and get it into that empty brain of yours. At least there would be something in it." Rita told her to her face and that left Bethany awestruck.

As Maria stepped back to admire her handiwork, I gazed in the mirror. I barely recognized myself. The woman staring back was confident, elegant, and radiant. "Thank you, Maria," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. Maria smiled warmly. "You're welcome, Milady. You look breathtaking. The boss will be impressed." With renewed confidence, I stood up, smoothing out my dress. "I'm ready," I declared. Maria nodded approvingly. "You certainly are." I slipped on my shoes and in seconds, We were both out of the room.