Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 443

Forrest sat in silence, expressionless, turning the porcelain cup in his hands. He didn’t say a word.

Giselle, on the other hand, showed no impatience.

She waited him out, then spoke again. “I’m in no rush. Take a few days to think it over if you want—I’ll wait for your answer.”

Forrest finally broke his silence. “Why are you so invested in this project?” he asked suddenly. “Sure, AI automation has promise, but it’s hardly unique. Your company’s still green—unless Montgomery Holdings steps in to vouch for you, you’ll have a hard time standing out among all the other smart automation teams. And we both know that’s not going to happen.”

A quiet moment passed.

Giselle’s voice was calm. “This is something Lysander wanted to do.”

Forrest let out a low chuckle. “...Ha.”

“Believe it or not, that’s up to you,” Giselle replied. “I have my reasons. Besides, if the project succeeds, it’ll be a big win for me too.”

Forrest only smiled, saying nothing.

A big win? Who’s she trying to fool? Still, from what he could see, he wasn’t about to lose out on this deal—at least not on paper. But Giselle was clearly hiding something. Was she really trustworthy?

“So?” Giselle pressed.

“I’ll think it over.”

“Alright.”

* * *

An orange Bentley Continental rolled into the courtyard. Mila ignored Leonard’s outstretched hand as he tried to help her from the car and made her way down the corridor toward the study.

She wondered what exactly Lysander’s grandfather wanted with her.

As she reached the study door and raised her hand to knock, she caught a familiar name drifting from inside—a name she hadn’t expected to hear. Her hand froze midair.

“...at the border...Lysander...”

What? Lysander? Were they talking about Lysander?

Maybe his grandfather was missing him, chatting about his grandson with someone? But something about the tone felt off. Mila instinctively held her breath, trying to catch more. Suddenly, the door swung open, and before she could react, she stumbled forward, nearly colliding with the person on the other side.

She bumped into something solid—her forehead throbbed at the impact.

“What are you doing here?” A man’s deep, steady voice sounded above her, tinged with surprise. It was oddly familiar.

Mila rubbed her forehead and looked up.

She was taken aback.

Standing before her was Carrol—Lysander’s cousin—dressed in a fitted black t-shirt, hair cropped short, his sharp features and piercing dark eyes fixed on her.