Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 513 "Why?" Mila asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Because in this marriage," Miranda said, pointing at herself, her tone earnest and sincere, "I'm the one calling the shots. If I want to go home, I go home. If I don't, I don't, and he doesn't dare say a word. If he did, well, I'd just walk away!" "...Seriously?" Mila eyed her dubiously.

"As serious as it gets!" Miranda replied instantly.

Mila mulled it over. Cto think of it, that really did seem to be the case... Every tshe'd seen Roland at a party back home, he'd always ask Miranda if she was doing well, or when she might chome. Anyone with half a brain could tell he genuinely missed her.

But Miranda just never went home.

What puzzled Mila most was that Roland was hardly known for being easygoing; in fact, with the Lockwoods' notorious criminal ties, he was the last man one would expect to tolerate such behavior... How could he still speak to Miranda so gently, even as she stayed away for days on end? Mila hadn't seen that coming.

Could Miranda really be telling the truth? Still... something about this whole thing felt off.

Wait a second! "No, hold on, none of this sounds remotely realistic." Mila's reason finally wrestled control from her confusion. She started picking apart Miranda's logic, piece by piece. "First of all, do you really think someone like Lysander is so easy to control? You're talking aboutordering him around, tossing him out on a whim, humiliating him— are you sure he wouldn't just tearto pieces?" Her goal was to stay as far away from Lysander as possible! She almost got sidetracked.

Miranda took a deep breath and pressed on, stubbornly, "That's why you have to have control! If you're the one holding the reins, why wouldn't you be able to handle him?" "I couldn't," Mila answered honestly.

A man like Lysander-strong-willed, domineering, and terrifyingly self-centered- couldn't even be controlled by his own family; what hope did she have? She was well aware of her limits. "And even if I could, why would I want to? All I want is for him to stay far, far away from me. Why on earth would I go looking for trouble with him?" She'd made the mistake of getting involved with him once in college, and she was still paying for it.

Hadn't she learned her lesson? Miranda groaned internally. Why did Mila have to be so sharp? She was at her wit's end.

She felt like coughing up blood.

This was all Lysander's fault! It wasn't enough that he'd roped her into this mess today's stunt had only made Mila more wary, making Miranda's job that much harder.

She couldn't do it. She just couldn't.

But the second she thought about giving up, Lysander's threats echoed in her mind, and she pictured Roland's deceptively gentle smile. She shivered.

No, no way.

She couldn't go back home. She couldn't face the Lockwoods again... That would be a fate worse than death! She'd risk anything with Mila by her side, but to go back to that house? She was genuinely afraid.

Besides, if Lysander hadn't lied, then his real goal probably wasn't to hurt Mila at all...

And, really, Miranda hadn't said anything wrong.

Lysander was a madman-if there wasn't someone strong enough to keep him in check, he was like an unleashed beast, biting anyone within reach. In the end, everyone would pay the price.

No one would walk away unscathed.

The facts spoke for themselves.

This beast had finally started to compromise, and for what? For someone. Just one person who could calm him.

Miranda had no idea if he was telling the truth.

But what choice did she have but to believe him? She was caught between a rock and a hard place; she had no way out but to see this through.

And besides, she nursed a faint, unrealistic hope-what if, just what if, Mila really could tthis beast? What if she could actually get him to yield, to let go willingly? After all, It was the beast who wanted something now.

And the moment someone wants something badly enough, they reveal a weakness-a chink in the armor. But of course, that only holds true if the person on the receiving end is strong enough.

Otherwise, it's just one-sided domination.

There was no help for it.

She had to cling to the possibility, however slim, or she'd never get through this.

People need something to hope for, don't they? Miranda sighed inwardly.

"Mila."

She chose her words carefully, "Let's not talk about anything else for now. Do you really want to be sm helpless prey, just waiting for him to toy with you? At the very least, we need to try and shake off this fear, change our perspective, and take the initiative in this little hunting ground of his." Step by step, that was the only way forward.

There would be a chance, eventually.

Mila fell silent, thinking... As long as nobody mentioned "hunting," this approach actually sounded reasonable.

But another question arose.

"Why do I even have to play?" she wondered aloud. Did she really have to join this one-sided gLysander had set up? "Sweetheart, he's already cknocking at your door!" Miranda groaned in exasperation.

It wasn't a matter of wanting or not wanting anymore.

"I know," Mila frowned. "I'm just

thinking-isn't there a way to resolve this without joining his game? om There's always more than one O solution to a problem. I'm looking for an option that letswalk away from this hunting ground entirely." She didn't want to "play." Miranda froze, panic welling up. If she let Mila think too much, it would all fall apart!

She was about to interrupt when a knock sounded at the door, followed by a servant's voide. "Miss, are you in there? Madam would like you in the lounge. They've caught him." Caught him? Miranda's heart skipped a beat.

Mila shot to her feet, strode swiftly to the door, paused for a deep breath, then pulled it open and stepped outside.