Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 519

If the Montgomery family’s wealth had become chains to shackle Mila, then so be it—she would break them herself.

Whatever the Montgomerys could offer, she could match, and more.

“And as for Adrian,” Jade said, her expression cool and steady, “if the child truly needs his mother, then let’s draft an agreement. Send him back to England. After all, Mila gave birth to him—he belongs with the Sutherlands.”

As long as Adrian was officially Mila’s son, she would devote every resource, every ounce of energy, to raising him—and welcome him into the Sutherland family. Otherwise, he might as well not exist.

If it came to that, they could always have another child. Mila was still young, after all.

Jade’s determination was clear in her voice, and Lysander’s grandfather’s smile faded ever so slightly. He restrained himself from outright refusal, keeping his tone conciliatory. “Shouldn’t we ask Mila what she wants? And even if she’s willing, shouldn’t we consider Adrian’s wishes as well? Perhaps we could—”

“She’ll do as I say.” Jade’s interruption was icy, dismissing Adrian’s opinion entirely. “Of course, if you refuse to return the boy, that’s your prerogative. But there’s a condition.”

Her gaze was sharp as she continued, “If the Montgomerys insist on keeping him, then Adrian is your responsibility—he’ll have nothing more to do with Mila. We’ll provide the required support, visit every few months at most, and when he comes of age, all ties are severed. He’ll be your child, and yours alone.”

She spat out the last sentence, her tone clipped and biting.

Lysander’s grandfather felt his chest tighten—a rush of anger at his useless grandson for creating this mess and pushing the old man out to bear the shame.

But there was no backing out now.

Despite his fury, years of self-restraint kept his demeanor pleasant. He launched into a stream of platitudes about how Adrian was still young, how he’d been raised by the Montgomerys, how deep the family bonds were, and how such drastic change would harm the child.

Jade’s patience wore thin.

She shot back with a cold laugh, “So what’s the point? His father’s been dead a year—why does he still belong with you? The mother’s alive; just return the boy to her!”

She didn’t bother to soften her words.

A heavy silence fell.

Across the video call, both butlers sensed the tension in their respective rooms; neither dared say a word.

Jade remained calm. If negotiations crumbled, so be it—she’d lose nothing important. She already had other plans: Find Mila a good man, let her start anew, and if need be, have another child.

And if this plan worked, it wouldn’t matter how much the Montgomerys protested.

None of this should have been so complicated; once her husband died, the two families should have gone their separate ways. But the Montgomerys had refused to let Mila go, clinging on shamelessly.

As far as Jade was concerned—marrying into the Montgomerys didn’t mean marrying the whole dysfunctional clan.

They were all mad.