Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 278

He hadn’t even managed to get the question out before someone forced a large gulp of liquor down his throat. He nearly choked, glaring furiously at Nathaniel.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Nathaniel shot him a look, then glanced at Lysander, who was still smiling faintly. Keeping his voice low, Nathaniel muttered, “Stop poking your nose into everything. Try using your head for once.”

“How am I not—”

He didn’t get to finish. A dull thud cut him off.

Lysander’s smile never wavered. He set his glass down on the table with a bit more force than necessary, producing a soft, heavy sound that drew everyone’s attention. Still smiling, he swept his gaze over the now-silent crowd.

“What’s the matter? No one wants to drink anymore?”

Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, unsure why Lysander had suddenly lost his cool.

The private room fell completely silent.

It was Nathaniel who broke the tension first, raising his glass with a cheerful grin. “Come on, come on! Just drinking is boring—let’s play a drinking game! Loser drinks, and tonight, nobody goes home sober!”

“Nobody goes home sober!”

“Drink, drink, drink!”

The mood instantly shifted, everyone joining in enthusiastically, and nobody dared bring up the previous topic again.

Giselle glanced at the man beside her as he tossed back drink after drink. Her hand, hanging at her side, slowly curled into a fist, but her smile remained flawless.

...

Meanwhile.

At her art studio, The Bamboo Grove, Mila answered a call from her divorce attorney’s team.

When she finished listening, she sounded a little surprised.

“You’re saying Lysander and Giselle are partying at the club? Why are you telling me this?”

She had no interest in hearing about those two right now.

“Ms. Sutherland, it’s like this: we’ve had people following them these past few days, hoping to catch evidence of an affair. We think tonight is a good opportunity. Based on our past cases, these social gatherings are prime chances to get incriminating photos. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

Mila paused, then realization dawned.

Lysander slumped against the sofa, the collar of his black shirt undone, dark hair tousled, sharp features achingly handsome. His usually intense, fox-like eyes were clouded with drink, making him look even more dangerously alluring—a man in his prime, magnetic without even trying.

He murmured in a low, rough voice, “It’s… hot…”

A flush crept across Giselle’s face, her body suddenly burning up. That was odd—she hadn’t put anything in her own drink.

But when she looked at the man sprawled on the couch, all smoldering and irresistible, she could hardly blame herself.

Fighting back the heat spreading through her, she hurried to the bedside, attached a miniature camera to her phone, and aimed it squarely at the bed.

Getting in bed was just the means.

Her real goal was to catch everything on video—leverage the Montgomery family and Lysander couldn’t ignore. No more delays. She and the Harvey family deserved an answer.

Of course, if she ended up pregnant after tonight, even better.

A moment later, the lights went out.

In the darkness, the supposedly locked door quietly swung open from the outside. A tall figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted in the gloom.