Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 311

Forrest?

What’s wrong with Forrest?

Mila was completely at a loss, her confusion only growing. Ever since that incident in the men’s locker room, she’d been wary—maybe even a little disgusted—by Leonard, and now this cryptic message just made her even more uneasy.

What kind of game is he playing now?

Forrest was the project lead—she was just a junior who still needed his guidance. How was she supposed to "stay away"? Was she supposed to quit? Since when was that an option?

It was all so bizarre.

“What do you want?” Mila asked coolly, making it clear she wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

Leonard, noticing her annoyance, didn’t linger. He handed her a paper bag. “The boss asked me to give this to you. He’ll pick you up tonight.”

With that, he turned and left.

Mila frowned, perplexed. She tugged open the bag—and instantly felt her face burn.

Inside was a nearly transparent white slip, dusted with tiny rhinestones. The fabric was so thin and soft, it would barely hide anything at all.

Disgusting. Was this man capable of thinking about anything else?

It had been nearly a month since their contract relationship started. If Lysander was bored, she sure couldn’t tell—his “creativity” only seemed to multiply. He’d gone from awkward and reserved to coming up with new tricks every week.

Miranda’s advice—was it really trustworthy?

Mila gripped the paper bag, wishing it would catch fire in her hands. She was just about to toss it in the trash when a voice interrupted her.

“What’s up?”

Forrest stood in the half-open doorway, curiosity and a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Why’s your face so red? Are you feeling okay?”

“N-no.” Mila clutched the bag tighter, sweating bullets. “I, um, just got a little hungry all of a sudden. Hey, about those lines of code, can I go over them with you this afternoon instead?”

“Sure,” Forrest replied gently. He hesitated, then offered, “Actually, I was just heading to the cafeteria—maybe we could—”

But before he could finish, Mila had already darted down the hall, disappearing in a flustered rush. Forrest could only laugh and shake his head, still not sure what had gotten into her.

...

That night, in an upscale apartment just outside Northpoint University.

The city lights shimmered beyond the window. In the softly lit bedroom, shadows danced across the walls, casting a warm and intimate glow.

By the floor-to-ceiling windows, Lysander sat with his back against the glass, a girl curled in his lap. Mila gazed nervously out at the city, her dress slipping off one shoulder.

Lysander, clearly displeased at her distracted mood, bit lightly at her bare shoulder. “Why aren’t you wearing the slip I bought you?”

At the mention of it, Mila—who’d been tense with nerves—immediately shot him a glare. “That thing’s basically see-through! I might as well not wear anything at all. Forget it!”

“Oh? So you don’t want to wear anything?”

Lysander twisted her words with a mischievous grin, deftly slipping her dress further off her shoulders, exposing even more of her pale skin to the golden light.

He leaned down, his lips brushing gently along her collarbone.