Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 517

“What are you thinking about?” Mila flicked Miranda lightly on the forehead. “You’re a lawyer, but half the time your mind is God knows where.”

“And honestly, there’s nothing to gain from leaking this information. If we can’t deal with Cossio, it won’t just be the Montgomerys in danger—my side will be in trouble too. That man’s as unhinged as Lysander.”

She could never forget what happened on the island—the gunshots, pain that cut right to the bone. Her hatred for Cossio and Lysander was perfectly balanced.

Mila sighed.

“So this won’t work, that’s a dead end too—then what are we supposed to do?” Miranda’s nerves were shot.

“Relax.” Mila straightened up and gave Miranda’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know exactly what he wants, and I’ve already figured out what to do. You just leave this to me and stop worrying, all right? I’ll handle it.”

Miranda blinked, caught off guard. “What’s your plan?”

“That’s a secret.” Mila’s smile was enigmatic. “You’ll find out soon enough.” Her patience was running thin; she couldn’t—and wouldn’t—keep enduring this.

Whatever Lysander was plotting, whatever twisted ideas he had about possessing her, she would break free. She’d shatter his delusions, leave him nothing left to chase.

She would never, ever go back to that hell.

Never again.

Mila rose and walked to the dressing room. She rifled through a pile of clothes she’d upended earlier until she found a mask—the one Jade had brought her before the masquerade, telling her to pick whichever she liked.

“The party’s over—what do you need that for?” Miranda trailed after her.

“Does it look good?” Mila picked up a half-face white cat mask and held it over her eyes, glancing up at Miranda.

“It looks great,” Miranda replied automatically.

“Then this is the one.”

Mila rummaged a bit longer and fished out a matching black cat half-mask. She waved Miranda off, signaling her not to follow, and headed down the hall to the guest room.

“What are you up to?” Miranda called, but got no response. She could only stand at the bedroom door, helplessly watching as Mila crossed the corridor and knocked on the guest room door.

She watched Mila say something to Forrest, who answered.

Then the two of them walked away together.

What the hell is going on? Miranda was completely lost. Could Mila actually be interested in him? That would be a disaster. If Lysander found out, he’d absolutely lose it.

Miranda felt trapped. As Mila’s best friend, of course she hoped Mila could find someone better, someone who could help her leave the past behind. But the thought of Lysander going off the rails terrified her.

Why can’t anyone keep that madman in check? She groaned internally, wracking her brain for ways to convince Mila to try her own plan—at the very least, she needed to keep Mila and Forrest apart for now.

As long as that lunatic is still on the loose, there’s no chance this ends well.

She was leaning against the bedroom doorframe, lost in thought, when the phone suddenly rang from the bed. Mila had left it there.