Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 422 No matter how much Mila resisted, in the end, she was still dragged into warming up and listening to the safety briefing before their dive.

She paid close attention, too.

There was no room for refusal. Diving wasn't just scasual fun-it demanded caution and respect.

Lysander, experienced as ever, noticed her anxious expression and leaned in with a reassuring whisper, "Don't worry. The spot we're going to isn't deep at all. Even if you've never dived before, you'll be fine—I'll look after you." -It's precisely because you're here that I can't relax! "Coach, is it really not deep?" Mila asked, unable to hide her concern.

Their instructor, a burly, cheerful man with a booming laugh, grinned at her. "Trust me, the deepest point is only about thirty feet, but most of the tyou'll be just twelve or fifteen feet down. The scenery down there is incredible-lots of couples cto experience it. Don't let your nerves make you miss out." "We're not a couple. We barely know each other. I was dragged here," Mila protested.

Lysander smiled and added, "She's right. We're not a couple. We're married." "Divorced!" Mila shot back. The coach just laughed, apparently convinced they were bickering spouses, and left it at that.

With her questions answered and reassured that professionals would be keeping watch from above, Mila finally relaxed. Once they were suited up in their wetsuits and gear, Lysander took her hand and led her toward the ocean.

The waves lapped eagerly at her feet.

She hesitated, just for a heartbeat-then the man at her side gently pulled her beneath the surface, into the sunlit shallows.

Her eyes widened instantly.

Awe. Pure, wordless awe.

What was she seeing? The water here was crystal clear, sunlight pouring straight through to illuminate the sea floor. Beneath them, not far from shore, lay a sprawling, ancient city-an entire world lost beneath the waves.

A voice crackled in her waterproof headset: the instructor, guiding them from above.

"What you're seeing now is the underwater ruins a kind of sunken Pompeii. This is Baiae, the most famous underwater archaeological park near Naples, submerged long ago by volcanic activity and earthquakes. In its prime, it was a retreat for Roman nobles. Keep swimming forward..." As Mila stared in amazement, Lysander gently steered her closer to the ruins. The instructor's voice continued in her ears.

"You'll see many statues and sculptures..." And she did.

All around them rose massive human figures, statues worn smooth by centuries, strands of seaweed drifting from shoulders and arms. The outlines were clear, the details almost eerily preserved. Shafts of sunlight filtered down through the blue water, glancing off marble faces.

It was like stumbling into Atlantis-majestic, mysterious, utterly otherworldly.

Mila drifted through this submerged dreamscape, Lysander's hand in hers, weaving between darting fish and circling statues. They moved effortlessly, as if dancing through the ruins.

It was visually overwhelming. Unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

After a long, lingering while, they surfaced and swam back toward the shore. Mila was still lost in wonder, barely noticing Lysander gently remove her mask and cradle her face, his lips brushing softly against her cheek, then her mouth-a deep, gentle kiss.

His fingers slid through her wet hair, drawing her into another embrace. He had, at last, brought her here, to this place he'd always wanted to share.

Beneath the gentle sea breeze, drifting on the calm water, they kissed-while far below, the ancient city kept its silent vigil.

Past and present, intertwined.

Something eternal, witnessed and sealed.

*** Back on the boat, Mila was uncharacteristically quiet on the way to the ship. Curiously, Lysander was silent too. Once aboard, the vessel set a new course.

Destination: Rome.

Mila didn't bother to check where they were headed. She spent the entire afternoon on deck, basking in the golden sun, tablet in hand as she searched for the history of the underwater city.

It was too magnificent not to be curious.

"You could just ask me, you know." Emerging from the cabin, Lysander set a glass of fresh lemonade beside her and smiled.

Mila didn't look at him, didn't reply.

Ever since their dive, she'd felt strangely unsettled. She had a hunch why, and wanted nothing more than to keep her distance from Lysander-preferably without exchanging another word. She knew all too well that if Lysander really set his mind to it, he could charm the heart out of almost any woman.

And it wasn't just about his looks.

But she also knew that most of his flirtations were just passing amusements. Once he'd succeeded, he'd move on without a second thought.

She'd lived through it before-more than once.

He'd outdone himself this time, she had to admit. The experience was incredible.

But she knew him too well, and she was prepared.

She wouldn't let herself fall, not again.

She wasn't going to get hurt.

"My dear, why are you ignoring me?" Lysander asked, watching her stare at her tablet without answering. He chuckled, bent down, and quickly kissed her on the cheek.

She startled, jumping up and accidentally knocking over her drink. The glass rolled and shattered on the deck. She immediately moved to clean it up, but Lysander caught her wrist, his voice exasperated. "Careful! Let someone else handle it. Letsee if you're hurt." Mila pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

Just then, a phone vibrated between them. Lysander picked up, but after only a few words, his expression changed.

Mila overheard a name-Felicity? What happened to her? *** Since escaping from the manor, Mila had avoided mentioning Felicity altogether.

And she'd never asked Lysander about her, either.

She wasn't sure how she felt. Back in the manor, when she realized why she'd been kidnapped threatened, starved when the gunshots rang out-she'd felt a flash of bltoward Felicity. But more than anything, she just felt heartache, fury, and grief...