Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 413 "Can you tellwhy?" She turned her head, meeting his gaze with a small, practiced smile. But her eyes were as empty and deep as a dark lake-waiting for his answer.

Waiting for the answer they both already knew.

"I'll find the best doctors. Aunt Eleanor will be alright, I promise." Lysander reached out, wanting to take her hand.

Mila pulled away.

"Lysander, your family is too powerful. People like me-we just can't survive in your world. This time, it was my aunt who got hurt, the only family I have left. What about next time? Who will it be then?" "I don't even want to imagine it. I couldn't bear it. Do you understand?" There were so few people in her life who had ever truly cared for her. Every one of them was precious, irreplaceable. She couldn't forgive herself if her presence dragged those rare, kind souls into danger just because of her.

Those days in the manor- Forced to live under the sroof as a madman for so long. She'd taken two bullets. Even her aunt had been drawn into the nightmare because of her, left gravely ill and unconscious ever since. The doctors still couldn't say if she was out of danger. Giselle was one of those who had hurt her. But who had truly caused all of this? In the long, sleepless nights at the old manor, Mila had gone over it all, again and again.

She finally saw things clearly.

"Lysander, you know as well as I do our marriage was a mistake. It was wrong from the very beginning. We were over long ago." Seven years of marriage-just a fleeting dream.

A play that should have ended long ago.

"This is it. I checked the calendar. The waiting period is almost over. Let's go home, sign the divorce papers, and put this mistake behind us. After that, let's never see each other again." "Mistake, huh?" After a long, heavy silence, Lysander finally looked up, a cold, mirthless laugh escaping his lips as he fixed her with an icy stare. "Seven years of marriage, and in your eyes, it was nothing but a mistake?" "Yes." Mila met his gaze, steady and unflinching.

He gave a short, bitter laugh.

"Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. The moment you left the country and broke our agreement, I withdrew the divorce petition..." Smack! Lysander's handsface jerked to the side, a faint red mark already forming on his cheek.

"You bastard!" Mila was shaking with anger, her whole chest heaving.

Lysander didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he even laughed. "Darling, you're the one who broke your promise. Everything has a price, doesn't it?" "A price?" "If you want to talk about consequences, go ask Giselle for them!" Mila had had enough. Her eyes were red with fury, her voice raw and desperate. "Don't pretend you don't know why I left the country. You and Giselle you're two of a kind! A perfect match! Neither of you cares about anyone, anyone's heart, anyone's life— mmph!" The table was a mess, silverware and plates clattering to the floor.

He pinned her against the surface, lips crashing down on hers, trapping her hands above her head. Her blouse was half torn, his hands hot and rough against her skin. His kiss was desperate, suffocating. She bit his tongue when she could, gasping for breath, crying out in pain.

Her shoulder wound tore open again, blood blooming across her white blouse.

He caught the scent of blood and froze, suddenly aware of himself. He let go of her in a rush, fumbling to help- but she shoved him away.

"Get out!" Mila curled up atop the table, shaking, tears running down her cheeks. She was breathless from pain and rage. "Get out! I don't want to see you!" "Your wound-" "GET OUT!" "She's had a sedative. She's sleeping now." Francis stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He glanced at the man slumped against the hallway wall, faint scratch marks still visible on his face. The memory of what he'd walked in on made him sigh. "Listen, man, maybe it's tto let go." Lysander's eyes were cold as ice.

Francis just shook his head.

"Don't look atlike that. She clearly wants nothing more to do with you, targ and she's hurt. What are you even trying to do? Anyone who saw you two would think you were sworn enemies, not husband and wife. If you can't treat her right, let her go. Set her free. Set yourself free, too." "Set her free?" Lysander's voice was low, harsh. "And what about me?" "There are plenty of women out there. Go find someone else who likes your...particular style." Francis sounded exasperated.

He'd been shocked when he arrived. That beautiful woman, pushed to this point- he'd always been gentle with his lovers, never like this, especially not with a wife. Even as Lysander's friend, Francis couldn't stand to watch it. His protectiveness flared up instantly.

Who treats their wife like this? It's inhuman.

"Seriously, man. Take my advice. She's made herself clear. If you keep pushing, it's only going to end badly."

"It's already past that point." Lysander's face was expressionless. "Even if we divorce, Coswon't leave her alone. What happened on the island can't stay hidden. When the truth comes out, everyone will know she was my wife, my lover. The only way she'll be safe is if she stays with me."

Francis went quiet, at a loss for words. Under his breath, he muttered, "Didn't look all that safe with youn || gither. When kysander shot him a glare, he hurried to change the subject. "So why not try talking to her for once? You've made a mess of things already, what's the worst that could happen?"