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.

phone and dialed, his voice low and crisp. "Send a few people to keep an

was not the time for Eugene to

arrangements, Leonard got into a car parked along the curb. He didn't drive far-just around the corner to another villa, where he

made a promise, after all. He would stay close and

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

nearly imperceptible makeup that masked his features. When

at that moment, she would have seen it clearly: Eugene was the spitting

stopped

Eugene seemed perpetually shrouded in gloom—a snake lying in wait, calculating and cold. And

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 hands moved without thinking, and soon his face was once again an

features faded from recognition.

but empty.

did he return to his

morning, Mila woke to

swollen she could barely swallow, let alone

warm water from Eugene and struggled to swallow her medicine, her face flushing with the effort. Inside, she

allow it. All she could do was watch Eugene eat his

asked, pausing mid-bite when he caught her glare, both

phone: I'll just smell it

up

eat, and after that bout of starvation at the manor a couple years ago, she valued food even more. Missing one breakfast shouldn't matter, but with her throat in this