Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 504 At eight o'clock in the evening, Rose Manor was ablaze with light. Roses in pink, white, red, yellow, purple, and blue swayed gracefully beneath the glow, their fragrance drifting on the summer air.

Every so often, a car would pull up at the front of the estate. Elegant guests, dressed to the nines, stepped out each drawn by Jade's legendary reputation. Every face was hidden behind a mask, shalf, sfull, as they strolled along petal-strewn paths into the lush rose garden. The ball had yet to begin, but already the guests wandered among the blooms, admiring the flowers in mysterious anonymity.

Along one side of the garden, beneath an arched trellis, stood a long banquet table laden with an array of colorful delicacies and fine wines. It was a masquerade, after all—everyone in themed attire, every identity concealed, each introduction a guessing game. The rules were simple: let your instincts guide you, dance with those who intrigue you, and savor the thrill of not knowing who might be behind the mask.

Upstairs, Mila was still in her bedroom, changing into her evening gown. The invitation had con short notice, but her great-aunt's house was never short on dresses for any occasion. The one Mila had been sent tonight was nothing like her usual style.

The woman in the mirror looked almost like a stranger. She wore a high-necked gown of sheer black silk, cinched at the waist with a golden ribbon. A sapphire- studded gold necklace coiled around her throat, the dark blue pendant edged in gold filigree with a teardrop pearl dangling from its tip. Matching gold earrings, each set with a pearl, brushed her neck. Her dark hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, lips painted a bold red. The look was striking-undeniably beautiful, but with a cold, commanding edge that felt both unfamiliar and oddly empowering.

She had just finished adjusting to the ensemble when Miranda's voice rang out from the other side of the door. "Mila, are you ready?" "Coming," Mila called back. She grabbed a brilliant gold mask draped with a long black veil from the vanity and fastened it to her face, leaving only her bright, fox- like eyes visible. The veil fell over her pinned-up hair, making her reflection look even less like herself.

Stepping out of the dressing room, she found Miranda waiting in a different but equally tic black gown. Miranda circled her, eyes wide with approval. "Black suits you, Mila. And with this getup, no one will recognize you." Mila sighed. "So, what's Jade's plan, exactly? Is she ever going to letin on the secret?" Miranda just grinned. "You'll see soon enough. Jade picked out a few eligible bachelors for you tonight I scoped them out ahead of time, and they're all quite attractive. They know what to look for, so they'll cfind you and ask you to dance. You can see if any of them catch your fancy." "Wonderful. So it's a blind date, with extra steps." Mila groaned, reaching for her phone. "Where's Forrest?" "He's probably already downstairs. And seriously, you're not bringing your phone to a masquerade." Miranda snatched it out of Mila's hand and tossed it on the bed, then fastened a finely detailed mask over her own face and took Mila's hand. "Let's go. The party's about to start." Hand in hand, they hurried down the stairs and followed the cobblestone path toward the back garden. Even before they reached the festivities, the sound of laughter and music carried through the air.

The garden was filled with people-everyone in their finest, every face masked. Somewhere along the way, Mila lost Miranda's hand in the press of the crowd; before she realized, she was alone, swept up in a sea of strangers.

Suddenly, the music swelled, commanding everyone's attention. The chatter faded. After a few seconds hush, the crowd shifted in unisonmoving toward the grand ballroom at the end of the rose field. Milà heard people murmuring, "It's starting." She followed along, pausing as she passed a bush of pale pink roses. On a whim, she plucked a bloom and tucked it behind the ear of her golden mask, then continued on toward the ballroom.

At the far end of the garden, the ballroom waited-vast and bright, its every corner adorned with roses. A live band played behind the dance floor, and even with so many guests, the space felt airy and open.

No host was needed; couples naturally paired off, spinning across the floor as petals swirled and drifted through the air. Mila watched the dazzling scene, scanning the crowd for Miranda-or for Forrest.

Just then, a man about Forrest's height approached her. He wore a sleek black suit and a heart-shaped black mask, his posture confident as he extended a hand in silent invitation.

But when Mila looked into his eyes, disappointment flickered behind her mask. Not Forrest.

He must be one of those hopefuls her great aunt had arranged. Mila had never cared much for dancing and tonight, with the weight of the masquerade, the prospect seemed even less appealing. She shook her head, declining the invitation without a word.

The man tried once more, then, rebuffed, retreated into the crowd.

Mila dropped her gaze, fingers idly brushing the rose at her mask's ear. How was she supposed to find anyone in this sea of strangers? Would Forrest even recognize her?

As she pondered, a sudden chill brushed past her. Someone was striding quickly in her direction. She turned-and startled.

Standing before her was a man was

draped head to toe in a black cloak.

His face was hidden behind a stark white mask, the hollow ve dark as Night eye sockets dark as night, and beneath one eye was painted a single drop of blood-red "teardrop." The effect was eerie, almost macabre. He reached out a gloved hand.

Mila instinctively stepped back.

He seemed momentarily surprised by her reaction, but then, without a word, extended his hand again, waiting-an unspoken invitation to dance.