Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 287

He searched all night.

In the end, it was a call from his father, Conrad Montgomery, that forced Lysander to return to the old estate.

“Have you lost your mind?”

Conrad’s face was thunderous as he confronted his son in the study.

Last night, Lysander had sent out so many people, causing quite a commotion. The whole social circle was abuzz, watching from the sidelines, eager for gossip. Even Conrad—who hadn’t involved himself in family affairs for years—had been dragged in by the uproar.

Lysander, having been caught in the rain all night, looked pale, but he didn’t seem to care. “I don’t have time to think about appearances. She needs to be found as soon as possible.”

A vein throbbed on Conrad’s temple; he was so furious, he hurled the mug on his desk across the room. “Now you remember to worry, do you?”

He was about to launch into another tirade when a knock came at the door. Adrian, who’d been staying at the estate lately, slipped in.

“Adrian, it’s early—why aren’t you getting some more sleep?” Conrad’s stiff expression softened at the sight of his grandson, and his voice gentled.

“Grandpa, I couldn’t sleep,” Adrian murmured, looking pale and uneasy. “I had another nightmare. I dreamed about Mom—she was underwater, crying and crying. I couldn’t sleep at all.” His voice faltered as he drew closer, grabbing his father’s large hand.

“Dad, I miss Mom. When is she coming back? I promise I won’t make her mad again. Can you ask her to come home? Please?”

“Soon,” Lysander replied quietly, then strode out of the room.

This time, Conrad didn’t try to stop him. He just let out a heavy sigh, gathering the trembling Adrian into his arms, comforting him, coaxing him to try and get a little more sleep.

It was barely dawn, after all. Five, maybe six in the morning.

——

Lysander left the old estate. He’d barely gotten into his car, ready to search the Willow Lane neighborhood again, when his phone rang—Leonard’s name flashed on the screen.

“Sir, Forrest is waiting for you at Crimson Gardens.”

How convenient.

Lysander’s grey eyes narrowed, cold and calculating. He told the driver to head to Crimson Gardens instead.