Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 502 Just as Lysander's plans were finally coming together overseas, a storm was brewing back home-in his grandfather's study, the old man's voice rang out, aging but still thunderous with anger.

"You little scoundrel!" "Can't even clean up your own messes, can you? Day after day you make things worse, and now, when you've really run out of options, you want your grandfather to step in and save your skin with whatever dignity he's got left?" "Honestly, I can't believe you have the nerve!" Butler Marshall, standing watch by the desk, quickly reached out to steady the old man when he saw he was nearly breathless with rage. Finally, his breathing eased, but whatever was said on the other end of the line made the old man erupt again.

"Utter nonsense!" "How many times do I have to tell you? Marriage is about trust and honesty! Have you been ignoringall these years, or did you just toss my words to the dogs?" "You made this mess, you fix it yourself! Don't expectto clean up after you. Stop coming up with these harebrained schemes, and get your affairs in order— then go and apologize properly in person. Isn't that a better solution than sending this old man out to face the music for you?" "Oh, so you finally realize she wants nothing to do with you? Good grief, I always thought my brilliant grandson from the Montgomery family-clever enough to even fake his own death-actually believed he was God's gift wherever he went." The old man's words dripped with sarcasm. "Ungrateful brat. Get lost." Before he'd even finished, he hung up, slamming his phone down on the desk so hard it rattled, clearly still seething.

Marshall hurried to offer a cup of tea.

Only after the old man had sipped it and calmed somewhat did Marshall risk a question. "Sir, are you truly not going to intervene this time?" "Intervene? And how, exactly?" Despite his words, after a few more sips of tea, the old man's tone softened, betraying his concern. "Can I really just do nothing? He's always been so stubborn, crashing headlong into every wall... Do you think I could let him ruin himself completely?" He sighed deeply.

"I never approved of that marriage in the first place. Tell me, Marshall, has anything good ever cfrom a union built on lies? It's a recipe for disaster." He shook his head and sighed again.

"Go on, get in touch-let them know I'll be coming by. I want to meet with Lady Jade myself." Eldermere.

The Sutherland Family, Rose Manor.

"A masquerade ball?" Mila had just returned from a morning at Splendid's headquarters when the butler delivered the news.

"Yes, miss." The butler smiled. "Her Ladyship says the roses are blooming beautifully this year, so she's decided to host a ball so everyone can enjoy the garden and have sfun." "Shouldn't it be a rose garden party, then?" Mila blurted out.

"The masks add a bit of intrigue." The butler's eyes twinkled.

"Oh, right." Mila didn't argue-her great-aunt had always loved a bit of . Still, she hesitated. "Am I expected to attend?" "Of course." The butler smiled again. "Several young men will be there guests of Her Ladyship. It'll be a good chance for you to meet them, just so you'll know what to expect." Mila's smile faltered.

A matchmaking event? Seriously? Her gaze drifted-almost involuntarily to the sofa beneath the stained glass, where Forrest sat quietly, sipping tea and reading.

The butler followed her eyes, then turned to Forrest with a polite invitation. "Mr. Whitmore, will you be joining us as well?" "I'd love to." Forrest looked up from his book, his eyes meeting Mila's with a reassuring warmth before turning to the butler. "I'm afraid I don't have anything suitable for a masquerade. I'd appreciate your advice." "Of course, sir." With a bow, the butler took his leave.

As soon as he was gone, Mila hurried to the stained glass window and perched beside Forrest on the sofa, her nerves showing. "Did my great-aunt give you a hard time?" Even she could see there was more to this masquerade than met the eye. She had brought a man hand yet her great-aunt was still. arranging introductions with other suitors-was she dissatisfied? Mila's heart pounded, remembering how formidable her great-aunt could be. She was terrified Forrest might be made to feel unwelcome.

"Not at all." Forrest closed his book, his voice gentle. "But your great-aunt truly cares for you. She loves you very much."

Mila tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "When I was little, there was never anyone at hto look after the oldfolks, so I'd often be sent out to the countryside to stay with her and my grandmother. She taughteverything-showedthe world of art, gavemy first lessons in creativity." But it was more than that.

If life was a stormy sea, and she a tiny boat lost in the squall, then her great-aunt was the lighthouse guiding her through it all.

She led Mila through every tempest.

Thinking back to those days, Mila's smile softened, her eyes growing distant. After a few moments, she lowered her lashes and whispered, "My parents used to complain She was a black sheep, a rebel, not fit to be a role model. But to me, she was the most remarkable woman I'd ever met. I always looked forward to those trips to the countryside-there was always enough to eat, and I could see her, listen to her voice." She stopped suddenly, caught off guard by a sense of unreality, glancing around at the elegant, sunlit sitting room.

Such a world apart from her childhood's poverty.

So much thad passed... The faces that once scolded and sneered now seemed distant, almost featureless.

Without realizing it, The scars of childhood had faded.

They no longer meant anything.

Lost in thought, she was startled by the warmth of Forrest's hand covering hers.

She looked up to find him watching her with gentle eyes.

"And then?" he prompted softly.