Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 467

Mila kept her face unreadable, though curiosity flickered in her eyes. She had to get to the bottom of this. "Why are you so insistent that I go over there?"

"Be clear," she pressed.

"What do you mean?"

Sophia shot her a cold, withering look. "I'm sick and tired of this. My own son can't even recognize his own mother. You're going over there, and you're going to set things straight for both of us."

Mila massaged her aching temples, her voice low and restrained. "Ms. Pembroke, I won't bother telling you to be reasonable I know it's pointless. But do you really not understand why your son is acting this way? Do you think I *wanted* to be mistaken for his mother? Please, get a grip."

She glanced over at Nathaniel, who sat awkwardly on the other side, clearly embarrassed. "When it comes to your son, I've done all I can—more than enough, honestly. Believe whatever you want, but I've never tried to mislead him. My conscience is clear."

"I only care about the results," Sophia replied smoothly, her expression blank. "The fact is, my son insists you're his mother. That's the only thing that matters to me."

She didn't care about anything else.

Mila's patience was wearing thin.

Was this ever going to end?

Why did she always seem to run into these unreasonable, powerful people? She didn't fear them anymore, but she was tired exhausted, really. Was it so hard for people to act like normal human beings?

"I'm not going with you, and you can't make me." Mila was done arguing, her tone flat and firm.

"You really want to bet on that?" Sophia's voice was steady, almost amused. "I do."

fingers, then let out a cold laugh. "You're more confident than

hard against Mila's neck, biting into the skin just over her carotid artery. It was the same fork Sophia had been playing

had seen

"Don't move," Sophia warned.

the fork a little deeper, sinews standing out on her forearm. Mila's skin reddened where the metal dug in. The men nearby turned pale, frozen with fear-no one dared move, terrified Sophia might

have predicted this level of insanity

security cameras everywhere, for God's

to the fork at Mila's neck, while with the other she calmly pulled a slim cigarette from behind her ear, flicked her lighter, and took a slow draw. Minty smoke

in that same

to hit me, so I slashed him with a kitchen knife -right where I'm pressing now. It opened him up, blood everywhere. He clutched his neck, flopped around like a chicken from the butcher's, and

my chicken soup? It's to die for. My late husband loved it. Are you sure you don't want to come over and have a

cold wave rush through

doubt Sophia was

Sophia's voice softened, almost

like it was yesterday. I was happy,

ve

Mila, Julian is my son. Flesh of my flesh. Even if I abandoned him, even if I never wanted him, he's still mine. No one else gets to be

you understand

to speak, but the pressure of the fork made her words

up just slightly, and Mila managed to rasp, "A

that would work, I—" The fork pressed down again, cutting

think you were negotiating with

Mila fell silent.