Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 392

She made up her mind.

For the next few days, Mila kept her head down and behaved.

Even though she knew the servants here would never answer her, she still occasionally tried to strike up a conversation with whoever entered her room. No one ever responded, but she didn't mind talking to herself.

Even the wolf that slept in her room every night—she'd finally worked up the nerve to stroke its thick fur.

Maybe it was the failed "revolutionary camaraderie" they'd forged during their attempted midnight kitchen raid, but now, whenever she saw the wolf, her fear had faded a little. She was still wary, but at least she no longer shrank away every time it padded over to nudge or nip at her.

She needed to adapt to this place as quickly as possible.

Only by adjusting could she start to notice the patterns, learn how things worked here, and find her chance to escape.

Each day, she dressed in ill-fitting gowns and veiled her face, then sat in the garden eating whatever Western-style food the man occasionally prepared- simple dishes she'd grown up with, the kind the Montgomery family often ate, and every single one was something Felicity used to make.

After finishing her meal, she dutifully gave her verdict:

Did it taste the same, or not?

Whenever this happened, she'd eat a little more than usual. After all, when the man cooked, no one stopped her from having seconds.

With any other meal, though, she was always interrupted and told to stop after just a few bites. That's why she'd been half-starved these past few days, growing weaker with every passing day.

The constant hunger worried her.

One morning, the maid came as usual to help her wash and change her bandages. Today, she dressed her in a rare splash of color-a red chiffon dress. It was still ill-fitting.

Now, Mila finally understood why. After all, she was a seasoned fashion designer; she could spot the wrong size at a glance, no measuring tape needed, especially once she tried the clothes on.

Every single dress was made for Felicity.

Felicity had always been a bit shorter and smaller than her. The fit was perfect for Felicity... which made it all the more baffling. What exactly was this man's intention?

the Montgomery family, then why stock the

his connection to

what was the real relationship between him and Lysander's mother, Felicity? Mila couldn't help but recall Felicity's long-standing, unstable mental state-none of this could mean anything

This time, her gloves were black

was different,

a wide-brimmed hat crowned with black roses, with a long black veil cascading down to her waist, obscuring her vision far more than

outfit

The wolf didn't trail behind her this time. As they passed the painting of the faceless woman at the end of the

-Could it be you?

...

the garden as usual, but stopped at the front

black limousine

Were they going out?

had

gently took her

was the man. Mila didn't resist. Over the past days, she'd learned a little about him: he was obsessively clean,

he did touch her, it was always with

mannequin, or the taste tester-and never lifted her veil in front of him, there'd be no repeat of the shooting, and she'd stay

climbed into

interior matched the castle's opulent, old-world style. The man sat across

Mila didn't ask.

she wouldn't get an answer. Instead, she turned and gazed through the thick black veil and the window at the

couldn't make out

could just discern the car winding down a long drive, passing through dense woods. The vehicle was soundproofed; she heard nothing from outside

a lot of

through the trees, mingling

of languages filled the

caught snatches of Italian, English, French, and

One thing was clear:

at some