Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 401

"How's today's work?"

Mila lifted her veil.

Lounging in the soft chair, the woman was all but swathed in gold silk-her figure bathed in sunlight, shrouded in an aura of sanctity and mystery. No one could make out her features, but Mila saw right through her. It was the same as always: Felicity, all false affection and empty warmth.

If her love was real,

then why was she suffering?

Mila scraped a bit of black and red paint onto her palette, blending them until she'd created a deep, haunting crimson. Dipping her brush, she painted a lifelike black-red rose right onto the woman's golden veil. Suddenly, the entire image- once so pure was tinged with something eerie.

A man's low chuckle broke the silence.

"I knew you'd like those roses," he said, sounding genuinely pleased. "I had the lab working for ages to cultivate the perfect black-red rose, just for you. I thought they'd make the perfect flowers for our wedding-what do you say?"

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A wedding?

He was seriously still going on about that?

Mila was speechless. She wanted to slap him, but... well, she didn't dare. If she woke him from this delusion, she'd be the one to suffer.

Please let him just be talking nonsense-he couldn't possibly be in his right mind. "My darling,"

He took her hand, pressing a gentle kiss onto her knuckles through the golden veil. "You still owe me a wedding. I've been waiting for so long."

Mila gritted her teeth.

Could he stop bringing that up? What did any of this have to do with her, anyway?

Total disaster.

After that, Mila had zero appetite for the rest of the picnic. She trudged back to the old manor, barely touched her dinner, and spent the whole night tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

kept repeating to herself: Let this just be a passing whim. Please,

day, her hopes were

blank, arms outstretched as the seamstress took her measurements. Apparently, they were making her a wedding

the verge

Why was this happening?

to his senses for once? She wasn't

going to lose

here, in this manor, she had less say than anyone else. Refusing was out

on, Cossio suddenly got busy. He was

been a blessing. But with the

She was doomed.

nights, Mila finally snapped. She decided she had to talk to Cossio-this marriage nonsense had to stop. No

she'd say a dozen times, she draped her veil over her face, crossed the hallway, and made her way to the

No answer.

again, and again-still

studio. She made her way there and rapped lightly on that door instead. Still no response, but this time the door was ajar, just a sliver of darkness inside. He had

open, lifting her veil just enough to

eyes widening in

she

In the studio,

now, the cloths had been pulled off, lying in heaps on the floor,

saw one

threads. A man's ghostly white hand gripped

more

even more lurid, some featuring only women, others showing men and women twisted together in every possible way-scenes of chaos and

only visible in profile, but

And the woman?

face was Felicity's.

stood rooted

snap out of it until she heard a faint sound

door. Panicking, she stumbled

She was genuinely rattled.