Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 287

He searched all night.

In the end, it was a call from his father, Conrad Montgomery, that forced Lysander to return to the old estate.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Conrad's face was thunderous as he confronted his son in the study.

Last night, Lysander had sent out so many people, causing quite a commotion. The whole social circle was abuzz, watching from the sidelines, eager for gossip. Even Conrad-who hadn't involved himself in family affairs for years had been dragged in by the uproar.

Lysander, having been caught in the rain all night, looked pale, but he didn't seem to care. "I don't have time to think about appearances. She needs to be found as soon as possible."

A vein throbbed on Conrad's temple; he was so furious, he hurled the mug on his desk across the room. "Now you remember to worry, do you?"

He was about to launch into another tirade when a knock came at the door. Adrian, who'd been staying at the estate lately, slipped in.

"Adrian, it's early-why aren't you getting some more sleep?" Conrad's stiff expression softened at the sight of his grandson, and his voice gentled.

dreamed about Mom-she was underwater, crying and crying. I couldn't sleep at all." His voice faltered as he drew

miss Mom. When is she coming back? I promise I won't make her mad again. Can you ask her

Lysander replied quietly, then strode out of the

to stop him. He just let out a heavy sigh, gathering the trembling Adrian into his arms, comforting him, coaxing him to try and get a little

was barely dawn, after all. Five, maybe

the old estate. He'd barely gotten into his car, ready to search the Willow Lane neighborhood again,

Forrest is waiting for you at

How convenient.

He told the driver to head to Crimson

villa. Lysander climbed out, striding toward the lounge. As he walked, he shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it to Harper, then unfastened the top

waited, dressed in immaculate

face to face. And yet, when they

spoke first. "Where

what I should be

searching the other's eyes for any hint of

men's fists clenched, knuckles white. They lunged at each other, punches flying, each

Forrest dropped his refined, gentle mask for the first time, every punch fueled by