Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 485 Making a mountain out of a molehill.

The sense of unease in Mila's chest only grew stronger.

She hesitated, thinking back to the last tshe'd paid off her contact. She'd told them not to keep digging. If this went any further, even if the truth cout, she herself would be exposed. The risk was small, but not nonexistent; if she got careless and was discovered, it would be a disaster.

And she just couldn't make sense of it.

She'd seen it with her own eyes.

With her own eyes.

But could she really trust what she saw? Mila reached beneath her pillow and pulled out a dagger, tracing her finger along the cold gemstone set in its hilt. She slowly drew the blade, watching the light glint off its icy edge. Her mind was a buzzing mess; she even considered digging up the grave, but what good would that do? What could a pile of ashes possibly prove? Exactly.

It had all been reduced to dust.

Suddenly, a chill ran down her spine. Sure, seeing is believing, and the person had died right there in her arms- but she hadn't actually seen the body burn.

The funeral had been rushed.

She'd been in shock at the time, and everyone had a plausible explanation for everything. So Mila had just gone along with it. But now, looking back, nothing added up.

Her heart pounded so hard she could feel her pulse throbbing in her temples. Her body was frozen, and her breathing cfast and shallow.

No way. Is this real? But why? Why? Someone that important-could their death really be faked so easily? Even if they were alive, after all this time, their life in the world would be over anyway.

What could anyone possibly gain from this? There was nothing to gain.

And Lysander-was he really the kind of man who'd let himself get played? Thoughts crashed through her mind like a storm. Mila lay awake all night, unable to sleep.

By sunrise, she had reached her limit.

If she kept thinking like this, it would drive her insane. Fear was suffocating, and she needed answers. She messaged her friend again, asking them to check the crematorium's records from that day. She knew that if anything shady had happened, any trace was probably long gone.

But she had to try.

What if? There was an easier way, of course-she could go straight to Sophia and ask if there was anything strange about that phone call. But Sophia was dangerous, openly hostile, and had no reason to answer honestly.

Besides, Mila had no desire to see her.

She'd investigate on her own.

Real or not, she needed to know the truth this time, or she'd never have another peaceful night's sleep.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook her. Clutching the dagger, Mila drifted into a fitful sleep, only to be jolted awake by her phone.

It was Forrest Whitmore.

She answered in a daze. Barely a few words in, she snapped fully awake, sitting bolt upright in bed, her voice raw. "Are you serious?" Two hours earlier.

On the second floor of a small café in Kingsford, Forrest sat by the window. After a short wait, Giselle arrived, fashionably late.

"You wanted to see me?" Giselle looked at the man across from her, surprise flickering in her eyes.

She had good reason. Lately, she'd tried every trick in the book to get in touch, even offered him plenty of information, but Forrest had remained stubbornly noncommittal-never giving her a straight answer about whether they could work together.

If she hadn't desperately needed the cards Forrest was holding, she'd have given up long ago.

Fortunately, she'd persisted.

Today, unbelievably, he'd contacted her first.

"So," Giselle said, cutting straight to the chase-they'd had enough dealings for her to know he hated small talk. "Have you finally made up your mind to work with me?" "That depends on what you have to offer." Forrest motioned for the waitress to bring coffee, not bothering to ask what she wanted. Giselle didn't like it, but she let it slide.

"I've already told you what I can give," she said, barely glancing at the cup set in front of her. Her voice was tight. "What more do you want?" "I don't understand why you're so obsessed with that Al automation project," Forrest said.

"I've explained this already." Giselle's frown deepened.

"I don't buy it," Forrest replied coolly.

She'd said it was something Lysander wanted, that it was all for him. For a dead man? What coulda dead man possibly do for her? The Montgomery family wasn't run by Lysander anymore. Did she really expect him to believe she was acting for a corpse? Giselle wasn't stupid.

"I cacross something interesting recently," Forrest went on. "Last week, we ran into Sophiaz That m woman n was having a meltdown, but one phone call shut her down completely. Not long after, her kid was enrolled in the sclass as the Montgomery family's child. Don't you think that's odd?" When Forrest mentioned Sophia's breakdown, Giselle almost laughed out loud- she'd heard about it from Sophia herself that snight. Knowing Mila had been humiliated had pleased her even more than her own successes.

Serves her right.

But as Forrest continued, the smile faded from her face. "What are you getting at?"

"After that day, I started looking into Sophia. She's not the type to be shut up that easily. And, as far as know there aren't many people who'd stick En their necks out for Mila, especially not for this sort of thing." Forrest looked her in the eye. "But there's one person who might." Giselle's smile vanished completely.

Suddenly, she bitterly regretted coming here today. She'd always known Forrest was a difficult man, but she hadn't realized just how hard it would be to deal with him.

He was far too clever.