Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

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?!

nearly swore out

mean? The problem wasn't the cake, it was her behavior? And what was that about? Did he seriously mistake her for Lysander's

This was madness!

you even kidnap me? Are you trying to threaten the Montgomery family? Because I'll tell you right now, Lysander couldn't care less about me. He only cares about Giselle-Giselle! Taking

expect any mercy from this

cruel, and sadistic. The usual threats were bad enough; who knew what kind

No more pretending!

a little as she stepped closer. "Listen, why don't we talk this out? Money, information-whatever you want, I'll trade for my life. All I want is to survive.

would never say something like

the distance between them. Mila instinctively backed away until her hips hit the counter, trapping her. His gloved hand reached out, brushing

he caught her wrist in an iron grip. His voice was quiet, almost

what ties you have or don't have to

well, and

"If

can't, I'll teach

"Take her downstairs."

stepped back, two blonde maids entered the kitchen, grabbed Mila by the arms,

refusing to let go—even as the wound on her left hand split open and

for mercy; she knew it

the sick things they did to women. She had no illusions about the man

his idea of punishment was,

already shattered-Mila had to assume the worst, and she couldn't let herself fall into

No matter what.