Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 335

"Remember this-if you ever dare touch that damn piano again to lure my people, it won't just be your hand that gets ruined. Stay the hell away from what's mine!"

"You... it was you who-ah!"

His hand was crushed mercilessly, cutting off his protest with a strangled cry.

Lysander looked down at the man writhing in pain at his feet, a cold smirk tugging at his lips. His fox-like eyes, however, remained utterly emotionless. Without another glance, he turned and walked away.

Leonard followed in silence.

Once they were in the car, Lysander dialed a video call. The screen flickered to life, revealing a gaunt, pale-faced man in a white coat.

It was Professor Mason, the renowned psychiatrist.

Professor Mason studied Lysander's face for a moment, then suddenly grinned. "Mr. Montgomery, don't tell me you're having second thoughts."

Lysander shot him a frosty glance.

When he didn't reply, Professor Mason went on, "First, you have to break her spirit completely. Drive her to the brink—let her hit rock bottom. Only then can you rebuild her, reshape who she is. If you do it right, you can keep most of her

memories intact. It's the most effective approach there is. Endure this phase, and you'll get exactly what you want."

Lysander stared out the window, his face inscrutable, voice flat. "She broke down last night."

"Not enough."

you ever actually

across Professor Mason's

making him seem even paler. Then it vanished,

the end, I lost everything because

is hardest not on the patient, but on the doctor. The moment you go soft, you

sure this

a long moment. At last, he stared coldly at the man's mocking smile on the screen

He hung up.

***

was almost

the filthy floor, his body limp and trembling, unable to hold back the agonized screams. His hand throbbed

simplest movement was

his grasp, clattering to

shaking so violently that red fingerprints smeared across the screen as he tapped out an

The line connected.

pain as he recited his address and tried to explain what had happened. By the end,

have

I just can't... I haven't-I

blur, anxiety flooding his senses and

so ruthless-what would happen to

scared? Was she crying? Was she

he couldn't let anything happen to himself. He couldn't—not yet. He

he loved her, wanted to spend a lifetime playing piano