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!"

Giselle collapsed onto the floor amidst the wreckage, gasping for breath. One trembling hand covered her face as she sobbed, her shoulders shaking. When she finally

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

one will have

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

the person in this photo

to this address tomorrow and

day-Bamboo Grove, art

how to paint when her

photo of a pair of hands bruised, battered, the bones clearly broken. Along with it, a

last name was

Giselle Harvey?

the Harvey family, and she doubted the

Giselle send her something like

at the photo, Mila felt a knot twist in her stomach. Whoever owned

hands, Giselle had sent it for a

Someone important.

Who could it be?

Giselle's number, but

again—each time the call was declined. It

Should she go?

The next day.

café in

sat alone in a private booth, a single cup of

stack of printed

hadn't arrived.

Mila stepped in, wearing a wide-brimmed brown

covered the photos and said coldly, "I told

came at all," Mila replied, settling into the seat across from her, face expressionless. "What do you want me

facing and considering it was Giselle who'd summoned her-there was no

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