Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 440

The sky was gray and heavy, rain falling in a fine, relentless drizzle.

On the slick city streets, an orange Bentley Continental cut a vivid line through the gloom, gliding smoothly along the avenue. In the backseat, a woman in a soft beige knit dress leaned against the leather, eyes closed for a moment’s rest.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed.

Mila was exhausted—days of back-to-back work had drained her. Without even glancing at the caller ID, she answered on autopilot. But as soon as she heard the voice on the other end, her brow furrowed and she slowly straightened up.

“Giselle?”

She was surprised. Giselle was the last person she expected to call her.

What was she scheming now?

Mila considered hanging up, but instead kept the line open, her tone cool and detached. “What is it?”

“You shot down my project proposal?” Giselle’s voice was even colder than hers.

Mila arched a delicate eyebrow, genuinely puzzled. “Did you really not see that coming?”

There was a pause, followed by Giselle’s icy reply: “There’s nothing wrong with that proposal.”

“Maybe not in theory.” Mila’s tone remained measured. “But your development team isn’t up to the job—the project’s beyond their capabilities. And come on, Giselle, you know there are holes in your plan. Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

Silence.

Then Giselle snapped, teeth clenched, “Mila, there’s nothing wrong with my proposal. You’re just out to get me!”

She continued, voice trembling with accusation, “Don’t forget, Falcon Technologies only exists because Lysander fought for it—it was his passion, his legacy. I wrote that proposal to honor his vision. You already cost him his life. Are you really going to destroy everything he left behind?”

“If you’d just stop sabotaging my applications, the project would get plenty of funding. I could hire a better team and make it work!”

Mila said nothing.

Sometimes, she truly couldn’t understand Giselle. For the past year, she and Conrad had been cleaning up the mess Lysander left after his accident, barely paying attention to Falcon Technologies.

And yet, somehow, that fledgling company—once left hanging after losing a major backer—had survived, all thanks to Giselle’s maneuvering. Mila had to admit: in business, Giselle was formidable.

It was a shame about her morals.

That was what Mila could never understand. Giselle was smart, driven. Why cling so desperately to a man—especially one who’d been gone for a year? Why resort to underhanded tactics?

Was it love? Mila doubted it.

She’d never been close to Giselle, but everything about her screamed pragmatism, not sentimentality. Now that the Montgomery family had distanced themselves, why not just let go of those Falcon Technologies shares, which she’d obtained through dubious means?

With her talent and the Harvey family behind her, Giselle could build her own empire. So why the obsession?

The call ended abruptly.

Mila tossed her phone aside with a sigh and leaned back, eyes closed once more.

“We’re here.”

The car pulled up outside a teahouse in the heart of the city. Leonard got out first and opened her door. “Chairman Sutherland, would you like me to come in?”

“No need.” Mila shook her head and stepped inside.

As the door closed behind her and the bell chimed softly, Leonard glanced up toward the second floor. There, standing straight as a pine behind the tall windows, was a man whose gaze met his. For a moment, Leonard’s usually impassive eyes flickered with something deeper.

Forrest.

The two men—one above, one below—locked eyes, each expressionless, neither willing to look away.

The bell tinkled again.

Forrest turned from the window, his face softening into a gentle smile as he walked to greet her. “Mimi, you made it.”

“Mm.”

Mila, in her beige knit dress, the soft fabric hugging her graceful figure, saw him approach. The sharp edge she wore in the business world faded as she smiled warmly in return.