Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 330

The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom for what felt like ages.

In the end, the girl was carried out, cheeks flushed deep red, barely able to sit upright in the man’s arms as he patiently fed her, spoonful by spoonful.

The young man’s dark hair was damp and tousled, a bathrobe thrown loosely over his shoulders. The robe gaped open at his chest, revealing sculpted lines and a languid ease that came only after indulging his desires. He was in good spirits, not the least bit bothered that the girl had bitten his ear hard enough to draw blood. He ignored the fresh wound, focusing instead on coaxing her to eat.

But the girl had no strength left.

She turned away from the spoon he brought to her lips, bracing a trembling hand against his chest, pushing him away in protest. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper.

“When will you finally let me go?”

“You wanted to sleep with me, fine. You’ve had your way. Now let me leave—I swear, I won’t tell a soul.”

She wanted nothing more than to get out.

She was sick of being locked in this place, staring at the same four walls, seeing only one face, confined to this endless, suffocating routine.

This wasn’t a life; it was a prison sentence. Her dignity and willpower had been trampled underfoot. It felt like she was drowning, spiraling further into the abyss with each passing day.

Her mind was on the verge of collapse.

If only she could leave, if only she could return to a normal life—she could endure anything. But Lysander had to give her hope.

Just a sliver of hope that she could get out.

Lysander gazed at her, his face unreadable, voice cool and measured despite the flicker of anger in her eyes.

“It’s not enough. Not yet.”

“What more do you want from me?!”

Mila summoned what little energy she had, trying to push herself up, but he held her firmly in his lap, refusing to let her go. He bent his head, grazing her ear with his teeth in a playful bite.

“You know exactly what I want.”

Her eyes instantly brimmed with tears—furious, helpless tears.

Days of pent-up anger and resentment burst out at once. She snapped, snatching a fork from the tray and, with all her remaining strength, drove it toward him.

She hated him. Hated him more than words could say.

Everything had been within reach—her chance at a fresh start, a lifeline she’d been desperate to seize. But Lysander had destroyed it all.

He’d deceived her, discarded her, treated her like she was nothing—and now he dared demand her love? The audacity was almost laughable.

He wanted everything, always.

“You didn’t want it.”

—So don’t blame me.

......

Once he was sure Mila was asleep, Lysander left the bedroom. He called for the housekeeper to clean up the spilled food on the floor. Downstairs in the foyer, Leonard waited for him, frowning at the sight of the blood staining his robe.

Lysander sank into the leather sofa.

Leonard fetched the first aid kit and began tending to his wounds, speaking quietly as he worked. “Sir, your grandfather wants to see you.”

“What does he want this time?”

Leonard hesitated. “I’ve heard he’s been looking into the daughters of several prominent families. He probably wants you to meet them, settle on an engagement soon.”

Lysander gave a cold, humorless laugh.

“Since when does anyone else get to decide who I marry?”

Leonard kept his gaze lowered. “Sir, your grandfather’s heard rumors about what’s been going on here. If you don’t go to him, I suspect he’ll come to you.”