Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 486 "It's a wild theory, I know." Giselle hadn't said a word for a long time, so Forrest pressed on. "But I've mulled it over and over, retraced every step. As implausible as it sounds, I can't find another explanation. And the thing is, I actually know that man-well enough, at least. When the news first broke, I was stunned." Stunned wasn't even the half of it.

He'd known the man for years-his sworn enemy, truth be told-and when word che was dead, there was satisfaction, yes, but mostly confusion and disbelief.

Was he really the sort to die so easily? But then cthe funeral, Mila's grief and trauma, the chaos that rocked Montgomery Holdings, and the chain reaction in the aftermath—all of it pointed to the struth: the man was really gone.

If it was all a lie, would he really have let Forrest suffer those losses, wager his entire fortune just to keep up the charade? What was the point? Still, too many things lately didn't add up. Forrest couldn't shake the strange suspicion gnawing at him. He started digging, found nothing concrete... but it was exactly those vague, inconclusive details that made him doubt all the more.

Something was definitely off.

Naturally, his thoughts turned to Giselle.

She'd been acting strange, too. If his hunch was right, then suddenly Giselle's baffling motives and behavior made sense.

That's why he'd insisted on meeting her today.

He wasn't worried about being too blunt. After all, it was Giselle who needed something from him, and that put the power squarely in his hands.

Sure enough, Giselle only stared at him in silence, her usually perfect smile fading, replaced by a cold detachment. The warmth in her dark eyes had frozen over; the way she looked at him now-this was the real Giselle.

Forrest said nothing, just took a sip of his coffee and waited. He already had his answer.

"What do you want?" At last, Giselle spoke, making no attempt to deny it.

Forrest smiled, set down his coffee cup, and extended his hand. "Ms. Harvey, I think we might have grounds for a partnership." "Why?" She didn't take his hand.

"The reason's obvious," Forrest replied, lips curled in a knowing smile. "You get what you want. I get what I want. Fair and square." "Aren't you worried I'll go after Mila?" she shot back.

"You're too smart for that." She gave a short, bitter laugh. "Maybe. But I'm starting to regret this. You're as dangerous as he is." Just as frightening-and, against her better judgment, just as compelling.

She reached out and shook his hand. "Let's work together." Giselle loved a gamble.

And she always bet on herself to win.

She had no other choice.

With Lysander's unpredictable moves and Mila's relentless caution running the company, Giselle had been driven into a corner. There was no retreat, not now. Every opportunity had to be seized, or she wouldn't survive the fallout.

Could Forrest double-cross her? She didn't trust him-not really.

But right now, she had no choice but to pretend she did.

If the day ever cthat Forrest betrayed her, sabotaging this alliance, she'd make sure he and Mila paid dearly for it.

If she went down, she'd take everyone with her.

Finally, the thing she'd feared for so long was out in the open. Giselle forced down her swirling thoughts, finalized the partnership and staffing arrangements with Forrest, and then took her leave.

Forrest stayed behind.

He watched her disappear down the stairs, his expression unreadable. When his coffee was finally gone, as if something had clicked into place, he reached for his phone and made a call.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, Mila sat on her bed, silent after Forrest finished speaking. The line was quiet; he didn't rush her.

A heavy silence filled the room.

Mila couldn't quite nwhat she felt.

A strange, unexpected calm.

All that tshe'd been plagued by suspicion, by fear and anxiety, unable to sleep or find peace, living in a constant haze.

But now, with the truth finally out, she felt eerily composed-so much so that it surprised her.

Mostly, she felt confusion.

And a rising tide of anger at being tricked.

After a long pause, she let out a low, tired sigh. Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke. "Thank you, Forrest. Thank you for telling me." "You don't sound so great. Wantto cover?" Forrest's voice was gentle.

"No." She answered immediately, then added, "Not tonight. And let's just pretend you never toldany of this." "All right, I understand." Forrest's tone was warm. "So, what will you do now? Whatever it is, I'm here. Don't be afraid." "...Okay." She had to admit, his steady, reassuring voice did soothe sof the turmoil inside her. The panic subsided a little.

But panic never solved anything.

She'd learned that lesson long ago.

When trouble comes, deal with it. There's no other way.

She talked with Forrest a little longer, but exhaustion soon caught up with her.

After hanging up, she received a message from her hacker friend.

Nothing. Everything checked out as "normal." But at a tlike this, "normal" was the most suspicious thing of all. Mila's last shred of doubt evaporated. She sat motionless on the edge of her bed, face blank, mind racing with one thought.

Why?

Looking back, it all made sense now-the strange feeling at the funeral, the absence of her family, the cold blood on her hands... All those details she'd brushed aside suddenly stood out in sharp relief, and with them ca wave of fury. Everyone knew-except her? Was this all just a joke to them? Lysander-or maybe the whole Montgomery family-had they ever spoken a single true word to her?

She had the sudden urge to call Conrad and Leonard and demand answers. Those two, at least, definitely knew-and so did the old man. Was she really the only one in the dark?

No wonder they never seemed that upset. She'd thought it was just their coldness, their distance afterall eir they'd never seemed that close, Over the past year, they'd all carefully avoided the topic, probably afraid she'd see through the lie. What a farce.