Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 386 Go back? Mila froze on the steps leading up from the first floor, locking eyes with the blond man standing below her. After a tense moment, she tried speaking English, her voice shaky.

"You..." Bang! Before she could finish, another gunshot rang out. The bullet struck the wooden banister beside her, splintering it into sharp fragments that peppered her face and arms, leaving her skin stinging.

She shrank back instinctively, but stopped herself just in time.

She could feel thick, hot fur pressing against her calves-the wolf was right behind her.

That did it. She was trapped.

There was a gun pointing at her from the front, and the man was clearly forcing her to back up. But behind her was the wolf, and she didn't dare make a wrong move. She stayed rooted to the spot until the blond man raised his gun, aiming it directly at her head. His warning this twas unmistakable.

She didn't have a choice.

Mila took another hesitant step backward, bumping into the wolf again. The animal was heavy and solid, blocking her way, and she didn't dare push harder.

Then- A sharp whistle echoed through the hall, casual and almost mocking.

At the sound, the wolf moved aside, finally giving her room.

Mila's gaze darted toward the hall, but she'd barely had a chance to look before another shot rang out. This one ripped through the hem of her dress, close enough to her leg that she could feel the heat of the bullet as it passed.

Not daring to look back again, she retreated, step by step, until she'd returned to the previous landing. She could hear the wolf padding behind her, following her right into the room she'd cfrom. There wasn't even tto close the door-it was inside with her before she could react.

She didn't dare shut it now.

Hugging her knees, Mila curled up on the sofa, staring at the wolf sprawled across the glass coffee table. She couldn't let her guard down for a second.

Night had fallen completely.

The cool sea breeze drifted in through the still-open window, ruffling the black curtains that swayed gently in the moonlight.

Then, footsteps sounded outside the door.

A blonde, blue-eyed maid entered, carrying a silver bucket. She switched on the lights, and Mila saw the wolf's eyes flash as it leapt from the table, golden gaze fixed on the approaching maid.

The maid set a silver tray on the table and, using tongs, laid out thick slabs of raw, marbled meat.

The wolf lunged at the food immediately, tearing into it with savage bites, blood dripping onto the table and filling the room with a metallic tang.

The smell turned Mila's stomach, yet, after watching the wolf eat with such gusto, her own hunger suddenly becimpossible to ignore. Her stomach rumbled embarrassingly loudly.

She'd spent the whole day being menaced by the wolf and forced to stand for hours, all without a single bite to eat. She was exhausted and starving.

Don't kidnappers usually feed their victims? Didn't they worry about her starving to death? With the wolf watching her and escape clearly impossible, and the people here showing no interest in talking to her, Mila decided she wouldn't make things any harder on herself. She tried reaching out to the maid "Is there any dinner for me?" English.

The maid didn't respond. She just stood there with the silver bucket, head bowed, as still and expressionless as a mannequin.

Thinking she hadn't heard, Mila asked again, "Could I please have something to eat?" Still, the maid said nothing.

Maybe she didn't understand English? Mila remembered the gunman downstairs had spoken Italian, so she fumbled through a halting request in broken Italian, hoping for at least a little food.

But the maid ignored her once again. Mila understood-she was being deliberately ignored.

Clearly, No dinner for her.

The wolf finished eating quickly. Once the maid had cleaned up the blood and removed the tray, the animal curled up again on the cold glass table, let out a loud, satisfied burp, and fixed Mila with a smug look.

Mila: "..." For the first time, she realized the word "dog" could almost apply to a wolf. This animal was clearly used to being pampered by its owner.

But it was infuriating, too.

Even with the wolf fed, Mila was still terrified. She was afraid that if she O closed her eyes shed wake up to the animal tearing her apart, so she forced herself to stay awake on the sofa.

Eventually, exhaustion won. She dozed off for a moment, drifting into a nightmare dinner table where he lay on a m dinner table, a wolf seated across from her in a napkin, holding a knife and fork, drooling as the silverware inched closer and closer... Mila jolted awake.

Before she could even catch her breath, she found herself staring into close.

a pair of golden eyes, far tɗo The wolf was licking her neck, its gaze hungry and fixed on her, drool dribbling down onto her collarbone. She stifled a scream, pressing herself back against the sofa.

Daylight was already streaming through the window.

Just as the wolf inched closer, the door swung open. The smaid from the night before entered, this taccompanied by another.

One maid went to feed the wolf.

The other approached Mila, carrying a tray draped in a gold-embroidered cloth. She didn't speak, just motioned for Mila to follow.

Anything was better than staying with the wolf.

Mila hurried after her, following her into a large, elegantly appointed bathroom. The maid set down the tray and began to help her undress.

Mila immediately stepped back, but before she could protest, the maid produced a pistol from somewhere and pressed it to Mila's forehead, her message all too clear no arguments.