Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 289

Chapter 281

Certainly! Here is your culturally localized English adaptation, following your guidelines:

"What is it that I want to know?"

Giselle hesitated for a moment before clicking into the message. The file was extensive, packed with written details—and photos.

By the time she'd scrolled through everything, her face had gone ghostly pale. Her grip on her phone was so tight it looked as though she might shatter the

screen.

This was exactly what she'd wanted to know.

Every detail from seven years ago, all the secrets and tangled history between Lysander, Mila, and Forrest during her time abroad-it was all laid out, stark and undeniable.

She didn't know who sent the information, but it matched her own research, only with even more excruciating detail.

Almost all of it was true.

So...

"You lied to me."

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Lysander, you actually lied to me."

The words had barely left her lips before she snapped. The phone flew from her hand and smashed into the wall, the screen exploding in a spray of glass.

But even that didn't come close to quelling the rage inside her.

Like a woman possessed, Giselle tore through the room, ripping and smashing everything within reach. Her eyes were bloodshot, burning with venom and hysteria.

"Lysander! How dare you lie to me!"

burned itself out, Giselle collapsed onto the floor amidst the wreckage, gasping for breath. One trembling hand covered her face as she

you all want to make my life hell, then don't think you'll get away

one will have

in anger, she rummaged through the mess and found her backup phone. She took a screenshot of one of the photos from her inbox, sent it to Mila, and typed

the person

tomorrow

next day-Bamboo Grove, art

was teaching Julian how to paint

it, her expression shifting. On the screen was a photo of a pair of hands bruised, battered, the bones clearly broken. Along

sender's last name

Giselle Harvey?

Harvey family, and she doubted the parents would contact her this

send her something like

the photo, Mila felt a knot twist

for a reason-it had to

Someone important.

Who could it be?

dialed Giselle's number, but there

declined. It was

Should she go?

The next day.

quiet café

private booth, a single cup of coffee

stack of printed documents and

time came and went, but her guest hadn't arrived. Giselle waited calmly. She was certain Mila

ten minutes later, the door swung open. Mila stepped in, wearing a wide-brimmed brown hat. Howard followed close

said

seat across from her, face expressionless. "What do you want me to

it was Giselle who'd summoned her-there was

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