Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 466 Laughter rippled through the cozy restaurant.

Suddenly, the bright red front doors swung open with a bang, and two people strode inside, drawing every eye. Mila, seated by the entrance facing outward, caught sight of them immediately. Her hand froze mid-air, fork poised above her plate.

She recognized them both at once-the Pembroke siblings.

They saw her, too. Sophia Pembroke, draped in a crimson coat over her shoulders, barely glanced Mila's way, her face unreadable. Behind her, Nathaniel Pembroke looked startled-no, more like panicked. He instinctively reached out to tug Sophia's sleeve, clearly eager to turn around and leave.

But Sophia Pembroke was not someone so easily redirected.

Within moments, both siblings had seated themselves at Mila and Forrest's table, making themselves perfectly at home. Without so much as a greeting, Sophia turned and called out for the owner. "Another place setting, please!" "Con, Soph, can't you see they're having a private conversation?" Nathaniel tried to pull his sister away, but she slapped his hand aside with a cold glare. "If you're not eating, then leave." Nathaniel fell silent, shoulders hunched.

Ignoring her brother, Sophia fixed her eyes on Mila. "Dinner's ontonight." "That won't be necessary," Forrest interjected before Mila could respond. "Sorry, but this meal is my treat for Mimi." It was a clear and unmistakable dismissal.

Sophia finally turned her attention to Forrest, but didn't bother replying. Instead, she rummaged through the folds of her crimson coat, producing a battered metal cigarette case. She flicked out a slim cigarette, placed it between her lips, and reached for her lighter.

"Sorry, no smoking in here," Forrest said lightly, his pleasant smile never faltering.

"That's right, Soph, you can't smoke here!" Nathaniel chimed in, then, remembering his sister's utter disregard for rules, quickly added, "Also, the owner's a good friend of mine!" "You should've said so sooner." Sophia's brows drew together, her patience already thinning, but she didn't light the cigarette. Instead, she tucked it behind her ear and called out again, this tmore impatiently, for the extra place setting.

"Soph, why don't we just move to another table?" Nathaniel's nerves were visibly frayed. His sister had only been out of prison a few months and had just cback from abroad. He'd been taking her out, hoping she'd readjust and stay out of trouble-he'd brought her here for the good food and the friendly owner, not expecting to run into Mila.

Now, all he could do was silently pray the situation didn't escalate.

When the owner finally arrived, carrying two more place settings, he asked lazily, "Want to move to another table?" Sophia didn't even glance at him, just waved him off. The owner, used to this kind of thing, set down the plates and left without another word. This restaurant was more of a hobby than a business for him-one more customer or less made no difference.

"If you're not eating, stop blocking the light. You're in the way," Sophia said, picking up her fork and shooting Nathaniel a frosty look.

Nathaniel wanted nothing more than to leave, but he was too afraid of what his sister might do if left alone. He sat down awkwardly in the only empty seat-right across from Sophia-offering apologetic smiles to Mila and Forrest. Unlike his sister, he didn't touch a thing of the table.

"Not hungry?" Sophia asked after helping herself to several bites, noticing that the others hadn't touched their food.

"This sweet potato casserole is actually pretty good. Want to try some?" Mila surprised everyone by smiling warmly and gesturing to her favorite dish.

"Too sweet." Sophia declined with a shrug. "The fish is good, though." "It is," Mila agreed, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

So, under the wary gazes of the two men, the tension at the table seemed to dissolve into a calm, almost friendly conversation about food. If not for Nathaniel's anxious expression, it might have looked like any ordinary dinner among acquaintances.

But then, Sophia abruptly changed the subject. "Didn't I invite you over to my house a while back? My idiot son still asks about you." It hadn't been a polite invitation. Ever since that incident at the party, Sophia had somehow gotten hold of Mila's number, calling her several times even messaging her, demanding she visit the Pembroke estate. There was never a trace of actual warmth or courtesy-just orders, thinly veiled.

Mila knew trouble when she saw it.

She'd refused outright, and after too many pushy calls, she'd blockedm Sophia's number She'd met plenty of &met people like this and had grown numb to their tactics. At this point, being "invited" or strong-armed into a dinner didn't so much as ruffle her mood-it wasn't worth the energy.

She didn't agree with calling Julian Pembroke an "idiot son," but that was Sophia's business! Seeing the topic raised again, Mila kept it simple and direct. "I'm not interested." With people like Sophia, subtle hints were useless.

"I want you to come. My idiot son wants you to come. After dinner, you're coming with me." Sophia's tone brooked no argument.

"Don't makerepeat myself. I'm still asking nicely-for now," Sophia added, her voice calm but unmistakably threatening.

"Soph!" "And you can be quiet, too," she snapped at her brother, who immediately fell silent. Then she turned back to Mila. "So? What's it going to be?" The whole place seemed to fall silent, as if holding its breath.

At another table by the door, Leonard sat alone, his meal untouched. He glanced briefly in their direction, then turned his gaze back to the street urned outside. Forrest, meanwhile, had been about to speak, but Mila shook her head at him from across the table, and he wisely stayed silent.