Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 45

Mila collapsed onto the plush sofa, her shimmering lavender dress fanning out around her. Her slender, pale arms were pinned down by long, defined fingers, as a man in an elegant black suit leaned over her, his lips stained crimson from their fierce embrace.

After a moment, they pulled apart. Mila's eyes were hazy, and she gasped for breath, taking a long time to regain her composure. Her almond-shaped eyes burned with anger, glaring at the equally dazed man before her.

"LYSANDER!"

Lysander looked unfazed, casually wiping the blood from his bitten lip. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice was lazy and indifferent, "Quite the bite you've got there."

"Get off me!" Mila's chest heaved with fury, her words rasping with a hint of hoarseness.

She tried to push him away, but her wrists were held in an iron grip, leaving her no escape. The helplessness and pain made her body tremble uncontrollably.

Resigning herself, she stopped struggling, softly closing her eyes and whispering with a weary sigh, "Let me go, Lysander. I'm exhausted. I don't want to do this anymore."

"Heh." Lysander chuckled softly, leaning in closer, his eyes so deep they threatened to drown her. "If not with me, then with whom?"

"Do you think this is fun?" Mila's face was a canvas of disappointment.

controlled slipped out of your hands, and your male pride is stinging. I know

together, Mila understood her husband all too

felt absurd to

of silent hostility, seven years of guarded distance. Even in the rare intimate moments, he treated her more like an indestructible object than

she was human. She could

And she could despair.

Lysander. Her voice was calm, almost a whisper, "Let's end it here.

...

"No way!"

her close, forcing her to meet his

the game works. You started it, and I decide when it ends. You don't

of marriage, reduced to a mere game

it take for you to let me go? How

hurry to leave, aren't you? So you can run off to that old flame of yours? Dream

"Smack!"