Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 348 "Name?" "Mila." "Age?" "Twenty-nine." "Gender?" "...Female." "Where are you from?" "Kingsford." "And your destination?" "Solaris City." "What were you doing in the forest?" "Our travel convoy was passing through when suddenly several vehicles broke down..." The soldier cut her off. "How many?" "...Four." "Go on." Mila took a deep breath.

"There were thirteen of us left. We set up camp and waited for help... Two men showed up while we were waiting... Later that night, while I was on watch, one of them pulled a gun onsaid he wasn't alone, that I was his only target..." In the dimly lit cabin, several soldiers sat rigid and unsmiling behind a rough wooden table, staring at the woman across from them. She sat just as straight, her clothes caked in mud, exhaustion etched onto her face.

It was Mila.

While fleeing from the gunman, she'd stumbled straight into a military outpost. She'd barely set foot past the perimeter when a patrol fired a warning shot, forcing her to a halt. The sound of gunfire sent her into a panic- she'd almost tried to run again, and nearly got herself killed on the spot. Only a shouted command had stopped her.

After she explained herself, the soldiers forced a hood over her head and marched her into this cramped room for interrogation.

The questioning was relentless and exhausting.

New faces rotated in and out, grilling her with the squestions over and over.

If a single detail didn't line up, the interrogation continued without end.

It wore her down.

Mila forced herself to remember every detail-why she'd left Kingsford, what brought her to Solaris City, and especially everything that had happened tonight. They demanded a minute-by-minute account. She didn't dare leave anything out, or embellish a single fact.

The tension was suffocating.

She supposed she should be grateful-wandering into the outpost had probably saved her life. But somehow, things felt even worse now.

She realized that trespassing on military property was no small offense. And being chased by an armed criminal right before blundering into a restricted area only made things more complicated. No wonder the questioning was so intense.

This round dragged on for what felt like forever. Eventually, a soldier gathered up the reports and left. Mila was bone-tired, but didn't let herself relax, struggling to stay alert for whatever cnext.

She didn't dare ask questions.

Not that the soldiers inside were inclined to answer, anyway.

People cand went, checking on things she couldn't see. She had no idea how much thad passed when, suddenly, a clatter of boots and voices erupted outside.

"Good evening, sir!" Mila, half-dozing in her chair, snapped awake.

The door swung open.

A man strode in, dressed in an officer's uniform. He was tall, sharply built, with striking features and a straight nose. His presence was commanding like a blade sheathed in calm restraint. His dark eyes were steady, not sharp, but radiated a quiet authority that spoke of years in command.

Mila froze, recognizing him instantly. She started to rise and speak, then thought better of it and sat up straighter instead.

The man's gaze lingered on her for a few seconds before he looked away and picked up her file from the table. He didn't say a word, just gestured for the soldiers in the room to follow him out.

After a long, tense silence, the door opened again. A soldier entered and announced, "Mila, you're free to go. Someone will escort you out in a e moment. Please make sure you keep your phone on and don't leave the country for now." Mila nodded quickly, not daring to argue. Still, she hesitated before asking, "How long will this travel restriction last? Exactly how many days?" The soldier ignored her and left.

Soon, she was alone. She waited in silence until, after a few minutes, the officer everyone had called "sir" returned, this tclosing the door behind him as his aide stepped out.

He dragged a chair over and sat down facing her, his expression stern, his voice calm but commanding.

"What brings you here?" For a moment, Mila was at a loss for words.

She recognized the man in front of her. She'd only met him once, right after her wedding to Lysander, at a dinner at the old family estate. They hadn't even spoken, but his presence was impossible to forget.

He was Lysander's cousin Carrol Montgomery.

But it wasn't just his rank that made him memorable. Even someone as ruthless and proud as Lysander who never cared what his own father thought-showed genuine respect for Carrol. If anyone could talk sense into Lysander, it was this man. Not even the family patriarch could pull that off. It was a strange thing.

Though Carrol and Lysander were only cousins, they were closer than brothers. Meanwhile, brother, Eugene Moder's real had always been treated like an outsider-sent away when they were kids, even given a nthat didn't match the Montgomery family tradition. The lines were clear.

It was something Mila had always found odd in her years of marriage to Lysander but in the end, it wasn't her place to question.