Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 466

Laughter rippled through the cozy restaurant.

Suddenly, the bright red front doors swung open with a bang, and two people strode inside, drawing every eye. Mila, seated by the entrance facing outward, caught sight of them immediately. Her hand froze mid-air, fork poised above her plate.

She recognized them both at once—the Pembroke siblings.

They saw her, too. Sophia Pembroke, draped in a crimson coat over her shoulders, barely glanced Mila's way, her face unreadable. Behind her, Nathaniel Pembroke looked startled—no, more like panicked. He instinctively reached out to tug Sophia’s sleeve, clearly eager to turn around and leave.

But Sophia Pembroke was not someone so easily redirected.

Within moments, both siblings had seated themselves at Mila and Forrest’s table, making themselves perfectly at home. Without so much as a greeting, Sophia turned and called out for the owner. “Another place setting, please!”

“Come on, Soph, can’t you see they’re having a private conversation?” Nathaniel tried to pull his sister away, but she slapped his hand aside with a cold glare. “If you’re not eating, then leave.”

Nathaniel fell silent, shoulders hunched.

Ignoring her brother, Sophia fixed her eyes on Mila. “Dinner’s on me tonight.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Forrest interjected before Mila could respond. “Sorry, but this meal is my treat for Mimi.”

It was a clear and unmistakable dismissal.

Sophia finally turned her attention to Forrest, but didn’t bother replying. Instead, she rummaged through the folds of her crimson coat, producing a battered metal cigarette case. She flicked out a slim cigarette, placed it between her lips, and reached for her lighter.

“Sorry, no smoking in here,” Forrest said lightly, his pleasant smile never faltering.

“That’s right, Soph, you can’t smoke here!” Nathaniel chimed in, then, remembering his sister’s utter disregard for rules, quickly added, “Also, the owner’s a good friend of mine!”

“You should’ve said so sooner.” Sophia’s brows drew together, her patience already thinning, but she didn’t light the cigarette. Instead, she tucked it behind her ear and called out again, this time more impatiently, for the extra place setting.

“Soph, why don’t we just move to another table?” Nathaniel’s nerves were visibly frayed. His sister had only been out of prison a few months and had just come back from abroad. He’d been taking her out, hoping she’d readjust and stay out of trouble—he’d brought her here for the good food and the friendly owner, not expecting to run into Mila.

Now, all he could do was silently pray the situation didn’t escalate.

When the owner finally arrived, carrying two more place settings, he asked lazily, “Want to move to another table?” Sophia didn’t even glance at him, just waved him off. The owner, used to this kind of thing, set down the plates and left without another word. This restaurant was more of a hobby than a business for him—one more customer or less made no difference.

“If you’re not eating, stop blocking the light. You’re in the way,” Sophia said, picking up her fork and shooting Nathaniel a frosty look.