Milady Persona Novels & Stories

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.

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.

Lila stood in front of the mirror, staring at a woman she barely recognized. She didn't want anyone to dress her up today, she was doing it by herself. Her lipstick was a deep, aggressive red, the kind of color that said she didn’t care if she bled, as long as she won.

The reflection staring back at me didn’t look like the girl who’d once scrubbed floors and hid her scars from the world. No, this woman was different. Dressed in white and silver, the gown shimmered like mist over moonlight, hugging the shape of someone who had survived, who had earned her place. Mira had insisted I wear my hair down, loose waves falling to my shoulders, small silver pins woven through to catch the light. She’d been buzzing with energy all morning mostly to hide her own nerves, I suspected. When she’d rushed into my room earlier, cheeks flushed and lips still pink from what was clearly a recent kiss, I hadn’t even needed to ask. Milo’s grin from breakfast had told me enough.

Looked in the mirror. Damn. The red made my skin glow. The slit showed just enough leg to be criminal. I stepped into the heels, wobbled once, then steadied. Turned side to side. I looked like trouble. The good kind. Mila wolf-whistled when I walked out. “Okay, he’s dead. You’re gonna kill him. Heart attack. Instant.” I spun. “Think so?” “Think? Babe, he’s gonna forget his own name.” She circled me, inspecting. “Hair down. Smoky eyes. Red lip. You’re weaponizing yourself.”

She treated me like her younger sister and would something sneak big potions of beef under my food just so I could get fatter and prettier as she would say than Elena. Now, I enjoyed doing simple things with her. Running around. Moving freely and breathing without fear sitting in my chest. “You seem different,” Mara said after a while, her voice softer now. “ I'm proud to see this version of you, Milady.” I glanced at her. “Different how? What did you notice about me? What version is this? Tell me Mara. I'd like to hear what you have to say about it.”

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.”