Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 446

“Are you Mila?”

The voice was sharp, almost cutting. Mila instinctively took a step back, rubbed her forehead, and looked up—only to meet a pair of piercing, red-rimmed eyes.

It was a woman.

At a formal dinner, no less, and she had a slim cigarette dangling from her lips.

She was tall, dressed in a deep crimson suit that made her look as untouchable as a queen. Her gaze was intense, sweeping over Mila from head to toe, assessing and cold. Her perfectly manicured nails, painted a dramatic scarlet, pinched the cigarette as she leaned in, smoke curling around her like a warning. The closeness, the coolness in her voice, made the question even more pointed.

“Are you Mila?”

“Yes.” Mila nodded.

The smoke hit her in the face. It wasn’t the harsh, acrid kind—more like the crisp bite of menthol—but Mila still wrinkled her nose and edged away.

She hated the smell of smoke.

Any kind.

“Who are you?” Mila asked, certain she’d never seen this woman before. Giselle’s warning about someone coming to give her a hard time flashed through her mind, and she frowned.

Did this intimidating woman know Giselle?

Was this the trouble Giselle had mentioned?

Before Mila could puzzle it out, Giselle hurried over, grabbing the woman’s crimson jacket sleeve, her tone suddenly sweet.

“Sophia, you made it!”

“Mm.” The woman barely spared Giselle a glance, her attention locked back on Mila, her expression growing even frostier. She extended her cigarette-holding hand toward Mila, her voice as chilly and light as falling snow.

“First time meeting. I’m Sophia Pembroke.”

“Julian’s mother.”

Mila froze. Wait—Julian’s mother? The woman who’d made headlines for killing her cheating husband and spending six years in prison?

She—

She was out?

No, wait. Mila remembered now—Sophia had been released last year, but with all of Mila’s travel, their paths had never crossed. Until now.

Mila instinctively took another step back.

Was it her imagination, or did the menthol smoke only half-mask something darker—a faint, metallic tang that clung to the air?

There was no doubt in her mind—

This woman had really killed someone.

“Ms. Pembroke.” Leonard stepped forward, inserting himself between Mila and Sophia.

“Move.” Sophia’s tone was flat, but there was nothing soft about her presence. Her gaze, if possible, grew sharper, more dangerous.

The two faced off, silent and icy, neither one willing to budge.

Mila took a deep breath.