Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 508 Miranda Wayne was pretty sure she'd just seen a ghost.

What else could explain the cold barrel of a gun pressed to the back of her head, and the voice-God, that voice- identical to the one from her nightmares? And then he'd actually admitted it! But... but... ghosts didn't use guns, right? So what the hell was standing behind her? That guy was supposed to be dead. She'd even asked Mila about it, and heard he'd been reduced to ashes—nothing left but a handful of dust. There was no way someone could cback from that, not even as a mummy.

Miranda's heart hammered in her chest.

She bitterly regretted her choices. Why had she found the ballroom so stifling? Couldn't she have gone anywhere else for sair? Why, of all places, did she have to wander into the garden-alone? But this was Jade's estate, for heaven's sake! Who would ever expect sderanged maniac to sneak in? "Did you hear me? Speak." The thing-man, ghost, whatever-behind her sounded irritated, pressing the gun harder against her skull.

"I-I heard you," Miranda stammered, swallowing hard. But curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn't help blurting, "Are you... are you human, or a ghost?" She'd never sleep again if she didn't ask.

Actually, scratch that-she might not even live to see the sunrise! Damn it! What, did she break scosmic law by stopping to enjoy the flowers? Why was she being punished like this? "Does it matter?" The man's voice was icy cold. Miranda shivered, forcing a nervous laugh. "No, it doesn't, not at all. Please, go on." "I thought you said you understood?" His tone dropped even colder.

Could she admit that she'd been so freaked out, the moment he called himself Lysander Montgomery, her mind had gone completely blank? She had no idea what he'd just said! A low chuckle-dry and mocking. He stepped closer, and in her peripheral vision, Miranda caught a glimpse of a half-face mask, ghostly white, with a single blood- red tear painted beneath the eyehole. Under the glow of the garden lamps, it looked horrifyingly vivid.

Her heart nearly burst from her chest.

"Listen closely." He rapped the gun against her head. Leaning down, the pale mask was so close she could feel the chill. His whisper was like ice water poured directly into her ear, freezing her thoughts.

This time, she didn't miss a word.

And when he finished, her fear snapped into anger. Her heart steadied, replaced by a sudden, blazing fury. She snapped, "Why should I? I refuse!" Bang! He slammed the gun against her head again. "Can you keep it down?" he said coldly.

"...I can." Miranda crouched, clutching her head and whimpering, but still managed to glare up at the mask, voice trembling but defiant. "But I won't do what you asked. I'd never betray Mila. Not for anything!" She hesitated, then added, "And She hesitated t honestly, since you've been gone this past year, Mila's been so much happier. Don't you get it? You're the worst thing that ever happened to her If you really cared, you'd stay far away and let her live her life!" "Finished?" He looked down at her, those hollow mask eyes empty and cold. Slowly, he raised the gun to her forehead, finger tightening on the trigger. "Such touching friendship.

I might shed a tear. So you'd die for her, is that it?" "Gladly. Goodbye." He pulled the trigger.

A muffled pop from the silencer.

No blood.

Miranda collapsed to her knees, sweat pouring down her face, trembling so hard her teeth chattered. Her lips worked soundlessly for a moment, too stunned to speak.

"Scared?" He crouched beside her, tapping her mask with the gun, his laugh low and cruel, "Relax. You're not dead-yet." He reached into his coat, pulled out a handful of bullets, and, making sure she saw, slid them one by one into the magazine and chambered a round.

He pointed the gun at her forehead again, his voice almost playful. "Miranda, you are her friend. For her sake, I'll give you one last chance... I'll count to three.

Three." "Wait!" Miranda finally found her voice, her mind full of curses.

What happened to counting to three? What about one and two? Did he just eat them? If she hadn't reacted quickly, her brains would be on the grass by now! But could she really give in? His demand echoed in her mind, filling her chest with dread. But if she refused, she had no doubt-this lunatic would really pull the trigger.

He'd never been afraid of anything, as far as she could remember.

Damn it.

What now? There had to be a way out.

Miranda forced herself to breathe, to think. Maybe if she stalled, someone would wander by and save her. God, please let someone come... She was so dead.

But the man in the cloak had no patience. He suddenly bent down, close to where Miranda knelt, and En whispered a few words in her ear. Miranda's eyes went wide.

"What-what do you mean by that?" "Exactly what I said."

He stood, twirling the gun in his hand, his tone calm and deliberate.

"Miranda, believe me-so long as I'm alive, she'll never be rid of me. For your sake, for hers, for everyone's, you know what you have to do. I'm sure you won't disappoint me, will you?"