Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 394 The forest banquet was finally over.

By the tMila was brought back to the old manor, night had fallen and she was close to collapsing from exhaustion. The dress they'd stuffed her into was far too tight and heavy, chafing with every step she took. But what bothered her even more was that, during the entire feast, she'd managed to snag just a single bite- sized pastry.

She hadn't even gotten a chance to try another before being whisked away.

Moving listlessly in sync with the maid's brisk motions, Mila let the woman peel the crimson gown-more of a shackle than a dress-off her body. She slipped into a light, white silk nightgown and sprawled on the sofa, too drained to care. Still, clinging to a sliver of hope, she asked weakly, "Is there any dinner?" The maid ignored her, simply redressing the bandage on Mila's left hand before leaving in silence.

So, no dinner again tonight. Great.

She genuinely didn't get it. Coswas impossible to predict. If she spoke up, he punished her; if she stayed quiet and tried to blend into the background, she still got denied food. What did he even want from her? This place was suffocating. She couldn't bear another day of it.

As soon as the room was empty except for her and the wolf, Mila sprang into action. She dug her fingers into the crevice of the sofa and fished out two gold- foil-wrapped chocolates.

She'd swiped them at the banquet when Coswasn't looking-her only successful heist of the night.

She pressed one of the candies to her nose, inhaling the sweet scent of chocolate, and for a moment, it soothed the storm inside her. Her stomach, though, had other ideas and let out a loud, indignant growl.

Without hesitation, she crawled into bed and slid one piece of chocolate into the crack beneath her pillow, safely out of sight.

She unwrapped the other, but didn't wolf it down; just nibbled off half. The chocolate melted on her tongue, rich and velvety, its sweetness chasing away the faint bitterness. For a moment, she almost felt okay.

Then the bed suddenly dipped beside her.

The wolf lunged, jaws aimed right at the remaining half of chocolate in her hand. Mila jerked away, shaking her head and scolding in a hushed voice, "No way, you can't have this." She glared at the greedy beast. He feasted on meat every single day, and now he wanted to steal her half-bite of chocolate? Unbelievable.

Moving quickly, she rewrapped the remaining half and tucked it back into the crack under the pillow, just in case the next round of linen-changing maids decided to snoop.

She'd savor it later-slowly.

Ignoring the wolf baring his teeth and growling at her from the edge of the bed, Mila cocooned herself in the blankets. She'd figured him out by now- mischievous and greedy, yes, but disciplined. He never actually climbed onto the bed, just hovered close by. At least he didn't tear the place apart.

So her chocolate stash was safe probably.

After a day like this, with only half a chocolate to her name, Mila woke in the middle of the night, stomach aching with hunger. She was almost used to it by now.

Almost.

She stared up at the blood-red canopy, dazed and empty, then suddenly sat up. No, she'd never get used to this. She was starving. She needed to do something -fast. If she didn't figure out a way out of this manor soon, she'd die of hunger before Coseven had a chance to lay a finger on her.

She'd had enough.

When she got up, the wolf stirred too.

There was no stopping him, so she figured she might as well use him as an early warning system. If trouble showed up, the wolf would react long before she could.

With a little misdirection, Mila convinced the wolf to follow her, promising him a midnight snack. Together, they slipped out under the cover of darkness. She hoped to scout around, search for an exit, or maybe find a phone- anything that could connect her to the outside world.

Her feet padded silently down the corridor in soft slippers.

At the end of the hall, on the landing by the stairs, her eyes fell on a faceless woman's portrait. She couldn't help rising on tiptoe to take a closer look.

The flickering candlelight made it hard to see. The longer she stared, the more familiar the painting felt, though she couldn't quite place it. The woman in the portrait was young, that much was clear. If it was who Mila suspected, the painting must have been hung here a long tago.

But something was odd.

Based on everything she knew about old Western aristocratic families, these halls should have been lined with portraits of direct ancestors-former heads of the family, important figures who had shaped the lineage, each immortalized for posterity. Like a family shrine, but in oil and canvas.

Yet, here was a painting of someone who clearly wasn't from the family, hung in the most important place of alt. That meant the woman must have mattered-a lot. But if she was so important, why leave her face blank? Important, yet unspeakable. The whole thing was unsettling.

Mila shook her head. She didn't have tto puzzle over it now, especially with the wolf tugging at her nightgown, urging her downstairs in search of food.

She followed.

Crouching on the stairs, she watched the wolf strut confidently into the foyer before she crept after himm They reached the kitchen door, and Mila eyed the keypad lock for a while. She didn't try her luck right away, instead gesturing to the wolf-telling him to wait here while she went to look for the code. If she got the door open, she'd grab him sfood too. The wolf seemed to buy it and settled in place.

Mila finally relaxed enough to search the vast entry hall. She was ravenous, but worried that a wrong code would set off an alarm. Better to search for clues-or, with luck, something useful-before risking it.

She scoured the cavernous hall, but aside from an ancient grandfather clock ticking away in the corner, wasn't a single bit of modern there technology-no phones, no computers, nothing that could help her contact the outside world. The only useful thing she found was a handful of fresh roses she'd plucked from a vase.

She ate a few petals. They were surprisingly sweet.

At last, she circled back to the front door. Sure enough, another keypad lock.

Unbelievable.

Who installs this many locks in their own house? Who are they trying to keep out -or in?