Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 57

Heavy, labored breaths echoed through the opulent room.

Mila lay helplessly across the glass table, her white sweater askew, her back throbbing with pain, and her beautiful eyes misty with tears. Despite her weakness, she focused on the man leaning over her.

Lysander, in his bespoke black suit, appeared equally disheveled. His sharp features carried an intensity that matched the heat of his breath against her delicate face. His piercing eyes, usually so captivating, were clouded. At one time, they would have drawn her in completely.

She had to admit, Lysander's face was one that could easily make anyone lose their sense of reason. But now, it held no allure for her.

Perhaps it was the pain in her back.

The pain that kept her painfully aware.

"My dear," Lysander whispered, his breath warm against her ear as his nose brushed her cheek. "Have I spoiled you too much lately? You dared to come here tonight with threats and bold words. Quite the nerve, I must say."

bit

Lysander murmured, looking down at her

his implication; she had come to beg him to spare her friend, and she knew the

It was an exchange.

knew it, yet the humiliation lingered. Never before had it been clearer that in Lysander's eyes, she meant nothing. Seven years of marriage, and not

years mean to Lysander? Mila didn't need to ask. She knew the answer: a marriage forced upon him, a mark of his

his tense neck. She braced against the stabbing

as she steeled herself to lean in, there was a

requests your presence. She says it's urgent," came Leonard's steady

Giselle again.

lashes fluttering open to meet Lysander's sweat-drenched