Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 575

The lawn was alive with laughter and conversation.

Despite a few hiccups, the engagement party was finally underway. Once the toasts were mostly done, Mila told the guests to make themselves at home-eat, drink, play, and relax as they pleased. After all, the whole resort was booked out for a month. Even after today, she and Forrest would be staying on for a while, so it made sense to let everyone enjoy themselves now.

Mila leaned over to Forrest, murmured a few words, then slipped away toward the back of the estate, planning to catch her breath and change into something more comfortable before rejoining the festivities.

She'd made it halfway down the hall when someone called her name.

Howard hurried up, looking pale. He lowered his voice. "Ms. Sutherland, there's a problem. Mrs. Montgomery... she's gone. Mr. Sutherland took Mr. Montgomery to the security room to check the cameras."

Mila froze.

She blinked, trying to process the words. Had she misheard? Who was missing?

Mrs. Montgomery.

Felicity?

"Mmm... That smell... roses?"

The sun was setting, painting the resort grounds in warm amber. Felicity wandered among the deep green trees at the edge of the property, eyelashes fluttering as she followed the faint scent she'd caught earlier on the lawn.

It was a strange, lovely fragrance.

Like roses.

Felicity knew that scent well.

Not long ago, Mila had gifted her a special bottle of rose perfume. She'd adored it, used it often, even tried to mix her own version, but she could never quite capture the same note. Later, she'd called Mila and learned that the perfume's roses were a rare variety, created by the perfumer's mentor through years of cultivation. No wonder she couldn't replicate it.

own garden roses just weren't the

up the idea of recreating the scent, and the little bottle

across that fragrance today-here, of all places. Not exactly the same, but close. Her nose was sharp; this wasn't the same perfume, but she was certain it

scent as it wound deeper

kind of rose was

through shadowed trees. She passed through the dusk and into

inside

almost like a country chapel. Inside, it was hollowed out-two stories open to the peaked roof, empty save for a pair of stained-glass windows

the windows was a

only see his

long, brushing his shoulders in tawny, golden

just from the sharp lines of his shoulders and neck, that he was a man-and not just any man, but someone tall, with a

She smiled to herself.

she paused at

furniture, not even a

the scent

drifted back to the man.

The last light gilded his figure in gold and red, giving him an air

fragrance in the

felt a

as she stared at his back, a strange sense of familiarity

A figure like this...

to her forehead. The scent was growing stronger,

"Are you coming in?"

deep, smooth as velvet-warm, familiar, almost as if they'd known each other for years. It was beautiful, she thought, too distracted to wonder why it sounded

up, just in time to see the man turn to face her, the sunset blazing