Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 403

Chapter 396

Mila fell silent.

Why was this man so impossibly difficult? He was just as infuriating as Lysander -no, even worse than Lysander!

Not that she dared voice any of this; she kept the complaints locked away inside.

Taking a slow breath, she obediently scooped up a small bite of cake with a spoon and, fighting down a wave of discomfort, offered it to the man. He leaned forward slightly and accepted it from her lips.

The kitchen was unnaturally quiet.

Mila's nerves were strung tight. She worried that if she'd gotten the flavor wrong, he'd lose his temper-and then she'd really be in trouble.

A long, tense moment passed.

Then, suddenly, Cossio reached out and took the plate from her.

He must want to eat by himself now.

Relief washed over her. The taste must have been right.

But before she could relax, the plate slipped from his grasp. It crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. Cake and crumbs scattered everywhere.

Mila's heart plummeted.

A second later, the man's voice broke the silence, calm and detached: "Wrong. She would never feed me cake like that... I can't forgive what happened last night. You need to be punished."

What?!

swore out

the cake, it was her behavior? And what was that about? Did he seriously mistake her for

This was madness!

you trying to threaten the Montgomery family? Because I'll tell you right now,

didn't expect any mercy from this

the kind who delighted in tormenting people-cold, cruel, and sadistic. The usual threats were bad enough; who knew what kind of twisted punishment he'd come up with next? At least if she fought back, she'd have some

No more pretending!

Montgomerys. You'll get nothing out of it —it's all a waste of your energy!" Her tone softened a little as she stepped closer. "Listen, why don't we talk this out? Money, information-whatever you want, I'll trade for

would never say something

until her hips hit the counter, trapping her. His gloved hand reached out, brushing her cheek through the veil she wore.

hand away, but he caught her wrist in an iron grip. His voice was

what ties you have

lived with her for a long time. You know her well, and she was fond of you. I

"If

I'll teach

"Take her downstairs."

he stepped back, two blonde maids entered the kitchen, grabbed Mila by the arms, and started dragging her

moment, Mila was too stunned to react. Then panic kicked in, and she clung desperately to the doorframe, refusing to let go—even as the wound on her left hand

she knew

in store. She'd overheard enough at that strange woodland party-she'd heard men talk about the sick things they did to women. She had no illusions about the

idea of punishment was,

assume the worst, and she

No matter what.

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