Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 391

She had never tasted soup quite like this anywhere else—not even in the finest restaurants abroad.

Yet the bowl in front of her now was almost identical to the one Felicity used to

make.

A sudden chill crawled up her spine.

Mila's back stiffened, and she slowly turned her head. Through the thin veil

covering her face, she peered at the blurred outline of the man sitting across the table. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably.

Why?

How could this man have made the same soup she'd once tasted at the Montgomery estate?

She had always assumed-

That he'd kidnapped her because he'd learned about her connection to Jade through Giselle, or that he held some grudge against her great-aunt, seeking revenge or ransom.

But now-

She realized she'd been terribly, dangerously wrong.

Had she overlooked the Montgomerys entirely? Was she taken because of them?

Her spoon slipped from her grasp and fell into the bowl with a soft splash. As she tried to stand, a servant behind her shoved her forcefully back into her seat, the grip on her shoulders painfully tight.

"Who are you?" she demanded, voice shaking. "Why are you holding me? Is this to threaten the Montgomery family-or to extort them?"

If this truly had something to do with the Montgomerys, everything changed. Her situation could be even more dire.

Lysander would never come for her.

...

The garden outside was silent and still.

coffee cup, took a slow, thoughtful sip, then finally spoke. It was the first time

"Did you like it?”

in

voice was refined, almost

mood to notice, nor to wonder how a

he said quietly, "Was it

dread swept through her. "What are

awful realization was rising in

silent. The cold muzzle of a gun pressed against the back of her head. Mila clenched her lips, forced herself to answer,

"It's... very similar."

not quite the same?"

turned as if to leave. Panic surged in Mila. Ignoring the gun at her head, she struggled

What do you want from me? If you're trying

edge of her veil, nearly

Bang!

to the floor, clutching her left hand as blood poured from the bullet wound in her palm. Writhing

Oh God,

With his black cane, he hooked

me

...

eyes hollow. The truth had finally sunk in-and left her more

was because of

always the

didn't even know

left hand throbbing and numb,

chest. Tears kept

she supposed

she ever go

they think she could be used to

But they were wrong.

it

pretense, a shell she'd been desperate to shed. The only one Lysander truly cared

the Montgomerys would lift a finger to

threat against her was