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?"

Let

"Not interested."

Can't we just

ruined it. She couldn't even pretend to enjoy

She just hated him.

don't think so. Unless you'd prefer to go back to the ship and spend a lovely night with me instead? I'd like

clenched her fists, resisting the

a hair-trigger lately. She drew a deep breath. "Don't you have anything better to do? What about―" she hesitated, "-Francis? Weren't you

handle his business

grinned. "Don't worry, darling. Everything's arranged. I have plenty of time to spend with you now. It's been ages since we traveled together-don't you want to enjoy

was blank. "Now

at her stubbornness.

her protests, Lysander took her hand and started strolling down the

bother

She was tired.

to his

thought about it, the

off, nails digging into his palm until

but he only held on tighter.

was the point of fighting with a lunatic? It would only

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 tailored charcoal shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exposing toned forearms. The open

wandering aimlessly along the golden, sunlit

foreign land, warm sunlight spilling

She stopped, inhaling deeply.

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255