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?

Montgomery family, then why stock the house with so many

was his connection to

him and Lysander's mother, Felicity? Mila couldn't help but recall Felicity's long-standing, unstable mental state-none of this could

time, her gloves were black lace, with

veil was

was a wide-brimmed hat crowned with black roses, with a long

her outfit

time. As they passed the painting of the faceless woman at the end of the hall, Mila glanced at it out of the

-Could it be you?

...

didn't head to the garden as usual, but stopped

long, black limousine was waiting

Were they going out?

her. Finally, she'd see the world beyond these walls. She still had no idea where she'd been taken-only that it was some island, and escape would be nearly imposs

gently took her

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

he did touch her, it was always with gloves-both of

as she played the part-the silent mannequin, or the taste tester-and never lifted her veil in

into the

man sat across from her, saying nothing

Mila didn't ask.

through the thick black veil and the window at the landscape

couldn't make

down a long drive, passing through dense woods. The vehicle was soundproofed; she heard nothing from outside as they drove deeper into the forest, eventually

lot of

she heard strains of music drifting through the trees, mingling

all sorts of

snatches of Italian, English,

One thing was clear:

at some kind of woodland