Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 403

“No.”

She couldn’t bring herself to admit she didn’t care whether the wedding took place or not. Instead, Mila flipped through the catalog and, almost absentmindedly, pointed to the most expensive, lavish gown on the page.

“This one will do.”

“Oh! Of course, absolutely.”

Lea quickly masked her delight, nodding eagerly. “Then, about the specifics—the flowers, the reception menu—”

“We can sort out the details later.”

Mila cut her off, gesturing to the delicate pastries and coffee arranged on the table. “Won’t you have some pastries, Ms. Lea?”

It had been so long since anyone had spoken to her.

In this old manor, Mila had to play the mute. She couldn’t even show her face in front of Cossio. The servants here were just as silent, moving about their work wordlessly, as if they too had no voices.

She cherished this rare social encounter.

Doing her best to prolong the conversation, she chatted a bit more. Only when dusk settled did Mila, with a reluctant smile, finally see Lea to the door.

Once again, the manor fell silent.

After dinner with Cossio, Mila returned to her room. She removed the veil with a sigh of relief, then leaned against the window, gazing out toward the distant coastline.

Out at sea, several ships were nearing the shore.

Bored, she began to count them—one, two, three—watching as they drew closer. Then she tipped her head up to admire the stars glittering across the night sky.

Almost there.

Just a little longer. Soon, she’d finally be free of this place.

———

Night descended on the island.

Under the starlit sky, several ships glided toward the harbor. The once-quiet waterfront burst to life, crowds spilling onto the docks, laughter and voices rising into the night.

No one noticed a group of about thirty slipping off one ship at the edge of the harbor. They followed a man in a long black coat, hat pulled low over his eyes, blending seamlessly into the throng.

Soon after,

A lively bar—one of the island’s busiest nightspots—welcomed the group. As they entered, they fanned out, each taking up a vantage point with a clear view of the room. Only the man in the black coat continued forward, weaving through the wild, dancing crowd until he reached the bar.

“Two Negronis,” he said.

He took the pair of ruby-red cocktails and slid one toward the only other patron hunched over the counter—a red-haired man who looked thoroughly drunk.

“Wake up.”

The redhead stirred, lifting his head just enough to reveal a pair of dazed, aquamarine eyes—eyes as clear and striking as gemstones.

Still slumped on the bar, he didn’t hesitate to down the drink that had been pushed his way. His blue eyes grew even cloudier as he grinned, reaching for the second glass. But the man in the coat pulled it away, tipping up his hat just enough to reveal a set of cold, fox-like eyes.