Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 274

Mila blinked, momentarily lost. “Huh?”

Howard looked a touch embarrassed, though his elegant composure never faltered. “I’ve kept track of the matter you asked about,” he said gently, “just as you wished.”

Being ready at all times for his employer’s needs—this was one of the hallmarks of an excellent butler.

And Howard was nothing if not professional.

“Oh… thank you,” Mila replied, still a little dazed.

She took the divorce papers from Howard, then, without missing a beat, passed them over the security detail and handed them to Lysander.

“Please sign.”

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Lysander went quiet for a moment.

He took the papers, glanced at them carelessly, but didn’t sign. Instead, he insisted the others leave.

“Clear the hallway. If we’re going to talk, it’ll be just us. Otherwise…”

His gaze slid to the little boy clinging to Mila’s hand. He instantly recognized him as Nathaniel’s nephew. Lysander’s eyes darkened, and then drifted back to Mila, his smile sharp, almost mocking. “You know me, darling. I’ve never cared how messy things get—as long as I get what I want.”

Mila’s grip on the boy’s hand tightened.

Of course she knew.

Her husband had always been results-oriented. He didn’t care how ugly things got, as long as he got his way.

But she cared.

Her eyes lingered on the divorce papers in Lysander’s hand. After a moment’s hesitation, she bit her lip and turned to Howard. “Take the boy and wait outside. The bodyguards stay. If I’m not out in ten minutes, call the police.”

She was playing her last card.

Maybe he’d sign. Maybe, after the scene he’d just made with Giselle—tossing around millions like pocket change—maybe he was eager to divorce her and marry Giselle as soon as possible.

It was possible, wasn’t it?

She opened her mouth to curse at him, but then felt a chill at her wrist. She looked down, and froze.

A jade bracelet now circled her wrist.

It looked familiar.

It was the same imperial green jade bangle from the charity auction—the one she’d once coveted, the one Lysander had bought for Giselle for six million.

So why was it on her wrist now?

Was he trying to humiliate her again?

Rage bubbled up inside Mila. She didn’t bother to take off the bracelet—her hand shot up, ready to slap him, but Lysander caught her wrist mid-air.

He held her fast, his sharp eyes lingering on how the bracelet made her skin look even paler, more delicate. He couldn’t help himself—he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her wrist.

“I knew it would suit you.”