No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 172

CHAPTER 0172

ETHAN’S PERSPECTIVE

I found myself rereading the blog post repeatedly, my eyes blinking as if each sentence demanded my brain to reboot before moving on. No matter how many times I scanned the words, they remained unchanged—staring back at me with a sharp, mocking intensity that refused to relent.

My gaze shifted upward to the publication date. It was marked just a few hours ago.

That couldn’t be right.

A cold shiver traced its way down my spine, and my jaw tightened so much it felt like it might crack. This was impossible.

This was the very same article a reporter had released over five years ago, right after Elena died. The memory of that chaotic week was still vivid in my mind—the accusations, the turmoil. I had done everything in my power to erase those dark days from existence. Every last trace.

And yet… here it was again.

I had hired an entire cyber team to cleanse the internet of this post, ensuring it vanished from every archive, every shadowy corner of the web. How, then, had it resurfaced now? After all this time? Who had managed to exhume this buried skeleton?

“Is there anything you need me to do, sir?” My secretary’s hesitant voice cut through the storm of my thoughts.

Her nervous tone grated on my fraying nerves. I knew she didn’t deserve my anger, but I couldn’t stop it from bubbling to the surface.

“Leave,” I snapped sharply, my voice echoing through the office like a whip.

She flinched, eyes wide with surprise, then quickly turned and hurried out. The soft click of the door closing was the only sound left hanging in the room.

I stood there, chest heaving with heavy breaths, suffocated by the oppressive silence. Snatching up the tablet, I slammed it down on the desk, then powered on my computer, fingers flying over the keyboard.

I typed: “latest news.”

Within seconds, a flood of search results appeared.

My heart plummeted.

The post wasn’t just back—it had exploded across the internet.

It was everywhere.

Countless blogs, gossip sites, and news outlets all carried the same headline, accompanied by the same haunting image.

CHAPTER 0172

“The Night Ethan Black Left His Daughter Alone: A Mistake That Changed Everything.”

+25 BONUS

Beside the headline was a photo of me at a gala years ago, smiling with confidence. Now, that smile looked arrogant—guilty.

Leaning forward, I pressed my elbows into the desk, my hand rising to cover my mouth. I bit my lower lip so hard it stung.

I began reading the opening paragraph.

“Over five years ago, at 10:45 a.m., Ethan Black was seen leaving his luxury estate to visit his mistress, who was hospitalized at the time. This seemingly minor lapse led to a devastating rupture in his marriage to Lauren Black. It is believed that during his absence, an intruder—possibly a hitman—entered the mansion. Left alone and vulnerable, his daughter, Elena Black, was tragically killed that very day…”

For a moment, I stopped breathing. The words blurred as my pulse thundered in my skull.

No. No. No.

I had buried this story deep.

I had paid, threatened, and silenced anyone necessary to erase this narrative before it could ruin me.

Yet here it was again, crawling out of the shadows like a restless ghost refusing to stay dead.

My vision blurred as I continued reading:

“There is no confirmed video footage of the intruder, but investigations suggest she was responsible for the murder. What’s even more disturbing is that Ethan Black allegedly leveraged his wealth and influence to suppress the case, buying silence from law enforcement and the media.”

My fingers clenched tightly on the edge of the desk.

A growl escaped me as I exhaled sharply, my temples throbbing with the rush of blood. Anger bubbled up so fiercely it nearly overwhelmed me.

“We have obtained credible evidence that on the day of his daughter’s death, Ethan Black used his power to bury the news. The real question remains: why? Why would a father conceal the truth of his daughter’s murder? Was it to cover his guilt? Or perhaps… because he knew exactly who the killer was?”

That was the final straw.

Rage detonated inside me like a bomb.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Leaving the office, my steps were tense and quick, muscles taut with anger. My mind replayed the headline, the comments likely flooding beneath it, vultures circling, feeding on my pain and guilt.

I needed to speak with Sophia—she would panic the moment she saw this. And Cassandra… I had already texted her to meet me at the house. She knew how to spin this, how to push back before it spiraled out of control.

This couldn’t have come at a worse time.

The company was still recovering from the last blow, and now this? This could shatter everything I had painstakingly rebuilt.

As I stepped into the elevator, the cold metal walls reflected the fury etched on my face.

“I’ll find you,” I muttered under my breath. “Whoever brought this back… I’ll find you. And I’ll make you pay.”

Because this wasn’t just a headline.

It was a calculated strike—an attack on my life, my reputation, everything I had built.

And whoever did this clearly underestimated who they were dealing with.

They’d learn soon enough.

MANICK U1/2

Still gripping my phone, I sent one last message to Cassandra: “At the house. Now.”

The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped out into the parking lot. The world outside felt smaller, quieter, almost suffocating.

I could almost sense the internet burning with my name—

Ethan Black, the father who left his daughter to die.

I just hoped… no, I prayed… that not many had seen it yet.

Especially not my investors.

Because if they had, this wasn’t just bad press anymore.

It was the beginning of the end.