Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 417

She barely listened to what he said-Mila just let his words wash over her, too indifferent to care.

Still, a question nagged at her. "If nothing happened, then why did he bother knocking me out? Was it supposed to be a joke?"

She honestly couldn't make sense of it.

Lysander's gaze dropped, his tone cool and detached. "With someone as unhinged as him, nothing would surprise me. Maybe he just wanted to scare you."

She fell silent, thinking back to Cossio's bizarre antics in the old manor. He did seem to enjoy toying with people, his mind working in ways she'd never understand.

Nothing he did was ever surprising.

Even so, Mila couldn't shake a lingering unease. But before she could dwell on it, Lysander's wandering hand snapped her attention back. Her expression darkened instantly.

This bastard.

They were still in a hospital corridor, for crying out loud!

What the hell is wrong with him?

Irritated, she smacked his hand away, stomped hard on his foot, and strode toward the hospital exit. All she wanted was to get as far from him as possible.

He winced, but only chuckled. "Ouch. Brutal."

Unbothered by the pain, Lysander shot a faintly amused look at the doctor standing nearby, then followed Mila out.

Outside the hospital, Mila made for the car, eager to get back to the ship. But Lysander caught her arm, and she whirled around, frowning at his infuriatingly pleasant smile. "What now?"

a foreign country, darling. Let me show you around a

"Not interested."

with you. Can't we just ignore each other for the next two weeks and pretend the other doesn't

nice, but the company ruined it. She couldn't even pretend to enjoy

She just hated him.

so. Unless you'd prefer to go back to the ship and spend a lovely night with me instead? I'd like that even

the urge to smack him

"Don't you have anything better to do? What about―" she hesitated, "-Francis? Weren't you supposed to take

just go handle his business and leave

to spend with

Mila's face was blank. "Now can

smiled at her stubbornness. "You

protests, Lysander took her hand and started strolling down the sun- drenched street, the car trailing

didn't bother

She was tired.

the ship with him—not after his threats. She knew he'd be true to his word. If she went back to the ship, she might not

thought about it, the angrier

to pry his hand off, nails digging into

but he only held

the point of fighting with a

afternoon sun was still golden and bright. Mila's white dress fluttered beneath the billowing black coat she wore, her hair streaming in the sea breeze. Ahead, Lysander walked with effortless confidence, his

aimlessly along the

Mila had walked like this-leisurely, without a purpose-in a foreign land, warm sunlight spilling over her. For a fleeting moment, she

She stopped, inhaling deeply.