Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 472

The call ended.

Eugene sat on the edge of his bed for a long time, staring at nothing, until his phone buzzed again, snapping him out of his thoughts. He answered instinctively.

It was just the delivery he'd ordered.

He left his room, moving quietly past Mila's door, then headed downstairs. As he opened the front door and crossed the yard to the main gate, he expected to find a courier waiting, but instead, it was Leonard standing there.

The night was silent, save for the gentle hum of the streetlamps lining the road. Leonard stood at the gate, holding the bag of goods, watching Eugene without a word.

Eugene didn't speak either.

The iron gate of the villa was half-open, leaving them separated by just a few feet of cold air, staring each other down. Finally, Leonard broke the silence.

He held out the bag, his tone brooking no argument. "Pack your things and leave tomorrow. Don't come back."

"It's my sister's decision. Stay out of it." Eugene snatched the bag and slammed the gate shut, not wasting a breath on pleasantries.

Leonard wasn't surprised.

If Eugene were the obedient, well-behaved type, Lysander wouldn't have had so many headaches over the years. Back when Leonard was around, he could keep Eugene in check, but he'd only been gone a year and the kid was already pushing boundaries again.

Still-it was nothing more than a nuisance.

low and crisp. "Send a few people to keep an eye on Eugene. The moment he steps out of line,

not the time for Eugene

He didn't drive far-just around the

all. He would

Eugene slipped into the bathroom, a bag of toiletries in hand. He peeled off his sweat-soaked T-shirt and shorts, reeking of alcohol, and stood before the mirror, slowly

in remover and wiped away the subtle, nearly imperceptible makeup that masked his features. When he looked up again, his reflection was sharper, more

had walked in at that moment, she would have seen

stopped

snake lying in wait, calculating and cold. And yet, at seventeen,

the hair dye-he worked the black cream through the faded brown, restoring its inky sheen. Then he reapplied his makeup, each step as methodical as a ritual. He'd done this for years; his

faded from recognition.

but empty.

did he return to his bedroom and crawl into

next morning, Mila woke

swollen she could

water from Eugene and struggled to swallow her medicine,

did, her throat wouldn't allow it. All she could do was watch Eugene eat his

mid-bite when he caught her

on her phone: I'll just smell it while you

the screen up for him to

that bout of starvation at the manor a couple years ago, she valued food even more.