Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 541

There was no reply. After Mila sent off her last message, she looked up at Sophia, her gaze calm and even. “Is that it? Can we talk business now?”

The air in the room turned icy.

Layton, standing off to the side, felt his heart nearly stop. He wished he could vanish into thin air.

To his surprise, Sophia—who was notorious for hating interruptions at work—simply fixed Mila with a cold stare for a moment. Then, without a word, she scanned the papers, scribbled her signature, and tossed the file to Layton.

It felt like a royal pardon. Layton, clutching the documents, gave them both his most professional smile, offered polite goodbyes, and made his exit in a smooth, well-rehearsed sequence—turn, step out, close the door.

Silence crept back into the hospital room.

“What’s left to discuss?” Sophia asked, her voice flat, her finger pointing to the bandage around her own neck. “No matter the reason, your son hurt mine. That’s a fact. And you hurt me, too. You both need to take responsibility.”

This woman. Mila forced herself to stay calm. Don’t get angry. She drew a slow breath, looked Sophia straight in the eye, and finally spoke. “Do you have any idea what your actions are doing to Julian? How far you’re pushing him?”

The sterile room was so white, the curtains fluttered gently at the window.

Since they were finally talking about the kids, Mila laid everything out—all she’d heard from Adrian, from the school, everything she knew. By the end, her gaze was sharp as a blade fixed on Sophia.

She couldn’t be sure of everything, not yet. But from what the teachers had said about Julian at school, and seeing the boy himself—so gaunt and hollow-eyed in that hospital bed—it was painfully clear: this woman hadn’t taken proper care of her child. And that was before you factored in her partnership with a lunatic like Lysander, cooking up this twisted “break them to make them stronger” scheme.

Maybe this time it really was just a slip, an accident. But if they kept going like this, sooner or later they’d drive that kid over the edge. It was only a matter of time before he broke completely. How could anyone be so cruel?

Absolutely unforgivable.

Sophia listened to all this in utter stillness. She shook a cigarette from a tin, raised it to her nose, and inhaled the scent, her face unreadable. Mila frowned at the display.

Mila was about to speak again when Sophia suddenly cut in, voice dripping with mockery. “That’s quite a story.”

“But do you have proof?”

“What makes you so sure—what gives you the right to say your child is telling the truth?”

Sophia bit down on the unlit cigarette, sitting up on the hospital bed and looking down at Mila with a sneer. “You know, your kid is an awfully good liar.”

A child who lies as easily as breathing—how much truth could there be in anything he says?