Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 404

Lysander still couldn't set his mind at ease.

This was more than just a rescue mission for him. It wasn't only about taking Mila back; it was also a long-awaited rematch with Cossio. The last time they'd clashed head-to-head was back in college, and Lysander hadn't come out on top. In fact, he'd barely made it out at all, and the price he'd paid had been steep.

This time, he had to win.

There was simply no other option.

As he stepped out of the bar, Leonard-dressed in the same black overcoat- appeared quietly at his side. He spoke in a low voice, "Everything's ready."

Lysander nodded. After a moment's thought, he added, "Get a few people to keep an eye on Francis. Until that damned wedding starts, make sure he stays away from alcohol. I don't want him screwing anything up."

"Understood."

Just then, a striking woman in a red dress-tall, curvy, impossible to miss- sauntered over, swaying her hips. She took a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling smoke in elegant spirals, eyes narrowed as she studied Lysander's handsome face. She offered him the cigarette with a bold, inviting grin.

"Hey, handsome. I noticed you back in the bar. You look like a good time. How about a date tonight?" She ran her tongue over her red lips, making her intentions more than clear.

cigarette. His voice was calm, unbothered. "My partner hates

woman blinked in surprise, but didn't press the issue. With

of the island, where, in the distance, a grand

His love-his wife-was there.

date was drawing ever

had tried to brace herself, but for reasons she couldn't name, her anxiety only grew as each day passed. An uneasy sense of dread gnawed at her, as if something terrible

Her insomnia returned.

she saw Cossio, her face was hidden behind a veil. Otherwise, the dark circles under her eyes would have made it painfully obvious how little

downed a shot of strong coffee, clearly in high spirits. "My dear," he said, "the invitations have gone out. In just a few days, the world

managed a

invitations were the last thing she wanted

Cossio would at least put both their names on them. That way, when the invitations began to circulate, her friends might

her dismay, the bastard had only put his own

clearer. He was still clinging to the fantasy of

A fake bride.

A fake wedding.