Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 510 "No." Miranda's tone was firm.

She had made up her mind-whatever gLysander was playing, she was going to try his suggestion, but on her own terms.

Hiding wasn't going to solve anything.

If she couldn't fix the situation, then she'd deal with the person causing it.

She refused to believe Lysander was truly fearless. And if he didn't have a weakness, well, she could always create one.

All she needed- All she needed was to persuade Mila.

With that thought, Miranda reached out and caught Mila, who still looked ready to keep searching. "Mila, let the staff handle the search. You-" She looked closely at her friend, whose face was ghostly pale beneath the garden lights.

"You don't look well at all. Lettake you back to your room for a bit, okay?" Mila was exhausted.

Ever since leaving the ballroom, her nerves had been stretched to the breaking point. But she just couldn't sit still; she needed to drag that man out of hiding, or at least be sure he'd left the manor. Otherwise, she'd never be able to relax... Everywhere she turned, she felt Lysander's eyes on her.

Watching from the shadows.

Cold as ice, piercing straight through her, making her shiver.

"Mimi, go rest for a while." Just as Mila was about to protest, Forrest-who'd been silent until now-spoke up. "I'll keep an eye on things here. You should go get srest." "But I-" Forrest gently pried her fingers loose from the golf club slick with her nervous sweat. "It's all right," he said with a reassuring smile. "Go and rest. I'll worry if you keep pushing yourself. I'll tell you the moment there's news... and you'll be safer in the house." His voice was steady, his smile warm-the kind that soothed Mila's restless anxiety almost instantly.

She finally let herself relax, just a little.

Miranda quickly jumped in, "Con, let's go. I actually need to talk to you about something, and I could really use your advice." Mila hesitated, but nodded.

She needed a moment to breathe.

Forrest watched her walk away, his gaze following her until, suddenly, Miranda turned her head to look back at him. Their eyes met for a split second before Miranda quickly looked away, and Forrest's brow quirked-then immediately furrowed again.

Pain.

His hand was throbbing.

Once Mila was gone, he no longer forced himself to hide it. His fingers spasmed uncontrollably, and the golf club slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor.

"Mr. Whitmore?" A housekeeper looked over, startled by the sound.

Forrest dropped his head, trying to hide the sweat beading on his pale face, struggling to keep his hand from trembling as he picked up the club. His voice was slow, measured.

"I need to step away for a moment. I'll be right back." "Keep searching." Before the housekeeper could respond, Forrest turned and strode off toward the lounge on the first floor of the manor.

There was a first aid kit there.

He'd seen it while tending Mila's scrapes earlier. There should be spainkillers inside.

The lounge was empty.

Forrest gritted his teeth against the shooting pain, managed to find the bottle, and shook out four or five pills, swallowing them dry. He sucked in a few shaky breaths before the pain started to ebb.

It had been well over a year since the nerve pain in his hand had flared up. He'd gotten out of the habit of carrying medication everywhere-never thought it weet.

cback tonight. He needed the pilts, but he didn't want anyone in the manor to know about this problem. Especially not Mila or Jade.

If Mila found out, maybe she'd feel sorry for him, maybe even agree to something out of guilt-but that wasn't what he wanted from her.

And as for Jade... that would be the end of it.

She'd already made it clear in their last conversation in the study: if she knew about this, even if it was just a psychological aftereffect, she'd see it as a weakness. She'd never let him near Mila again. It would be over.

He couldn't let them find out.

Once the pain dulled and he could move his fingers again, he pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and poured the rest of the pills into it, wrapping them up carefully.

No one would notice the bottle was missing.

Just then, the door behind him swung open.

"What are you doing here?" Of course. Just what he'd been dreading. That familiar, authoritative voice was unmistakable. A hand reached over and plucked the pill bottle from his grasp.

"Painkillers? Are you hurt?" Forrest's heart skipped a beat. He forced a smile onto his pale face and looked at the woman in front of him. "Mrs. Sutherland... what brings you here?"

"Didn't you all send someone to tellthe suspect was in the garden?" Jade gesturely toward the door with the pill bottle in hand. went with the staff to look. We found someone, but the kid refuses to admit anything. I thought I'd bring him here for Mila to identify... but why are you here? Where's Mila?" Forrest, still dazed from pain, was struggling to process. They'd found him? How was that possible?

He'd already checked the security cameras before heading to the o the m garden-be was certain it was Lysander. But Lysander was always slippery. If he'd had the nerve to break in, he must have been prepared. No way he'd just sit around in the garden waiting to get caught.

He had to have slipped away already.

But Mila had been so anxious, Forrest hadn't wanted to argue. He'd gone along with the idea of searching the garden-really just hoping to get Mila to walk it off, to calm her nerves.

But now- Mrs. Sutherland was saying they'd found him?

Forrest turned his head and saw two security guards escorting a man into the room. The man was wearing a stark white, tear-streaked mask and a black cloak. Forrest's hand, hanging at his side, twitched involuntarily.