The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 117

Ethan’s POV

While I followed Cynthia’s car to the restaurant, keeping a safe distance so she wouldn’t spot me in her rearview mirror, I remembered Sienna immediately.

Devian’s cousin.

The woman who had sat on my lap back at the club months ago and fought with Anna, creating a scene that had embarrassed everyone involved. She’d done it all just because she wanted to make Bryan jealous, wanted to get some kind of reaction out of

him.

I knew she and Bryan had something going on–I just couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. Some kind of history between them that neither of them talked about openly. Maybe an ex–fling from years ago. Maybe a one–night stand that had meant more to her than to him. Or perhaps she’d been chasing him for years with no success, orbiting around our friend group like a persistent satellite that wouldn’t fall out of orbit.

Whatever it was, there was tension there. Unresolved feelings, at least on her side.

But I knew she could be of help.

So I pulled over briefly and called Devian to give me her number. He’d been confused at first-“Why do you need Sienna’s number? Man, she’s crazy, you don’t want to get involved with her“—but I’d brushed off his concerns with some vague excuse about a business contact she’d mentioned at the club.

Luckily, when I called her, she was closer to the restaurant than Cynthia. Only a few blocks away, actually, doing some shopping

in the area.

When I explained what I needed–nothing elaborate, just her presence at the restaurant to create some… tension during Bryan’s meeting–she’d been surprisingly amenable. 1

She was willing to sabotage the meeting for 5,000 euros.

Though she mentioned that she was done with trying to win Bryan’s heart.

“I’m over him,” she’d said on the phone, her voice bored and matter–of–fact. “Completely over him. That ship has sailed. But 5,000 euros is 5,000 euros, and I’m not going to turn down easy money. What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Just show up,” I’d said, keeping my instructions simple. “Sit with him. Flirt. Make it look intimate, like you two have something going on. I’ll handle the rest.”

“That’s it? Just flirt with Bryan for five grand?” She’d laughed. “Easiest money I’ll ever make. Though I should warn you, he’s going to hate this. He’s made it very clear he’s not interested in me.”

“That’s fine. I just need you to create doubt. Plant seeds.”

“Seeds of what?”

“Just… be yourself, Sienna. Do what you do best.”

And she’d agreed without further questions, probably already spending the money in her head.

I felt a twinge of guilt – Bryan was my best friend, after all, and I was essentially paying someone to sabotage his inceting and make him look bad. But the guilt was drowned out by the desperation, the jealousy, the absolute refusal to lose Cynthia to anyone, especially not to Bryan.

This was war. And in war, sometimes you had to make difficult choices.

+40 Bonus

Now, from my vantage point in my car parked across the street with a clear view through the restaurant’s large windows, I watched the scene unfold exactly as I’d hoped.

Cynthia was standing on the sidewalk outside, partially hidden by a decorative planter, observing the scene I’d orchestrated. She’d arrived right on time, but instead of going straight in, she was watching

Waiting

Assessing

Sienna had outdone herself. I’d expected basic flirting, maybe some hand–touching, some suggestive conversation. But she’d gone full throttle, playing her role with an enthusiasm that suggested she was enjoying this more than the money warranted.

She was leaning across the table now, her dress–already provocatively low–cut–revealing even more cleavage as she bent forward. And as I watched, she took Bryan’s hands in hers and rubbed them on her cleavages–slowly, sensually, deliberately provocative. The gesture was so overtly sexual that even from across the street, even through the window, it looked intimate. Possessive. Like they were lovers comfortable with each other’s bodies.

Bryan looked uncomfortable, visibly so. Even I could see it, and I was hoping Cynthia couldn’t. His body language screamed discomfort the way he leaned back in his chair, trying to create distance without being rude. The obvious desire to extract himself from the situation without causing a scene.

But he didn’t outright push her away either.

He didn’t stand up and tell her to leave. Didn’t pull his hands back forcefully. Didn’t make a clear, unambiguous rejection that would signal to anyone watching that this woman meant nothing to him.

And that hesitation, that politeness, that reluctance to be rude even when being touched inappropriately… that was going to cost

him.

I almost laughed because of the victory I felt surging through my chest. This was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Cynthia couldn’t possibly misinterpret this scene. Couldn’t possibly see this display and think “oh, this is just a random woman bothering Bryan.” No, this looked exactly like what I’d intended it to look like an intimate encounter. A woman who felt comfortable touching Bryan that way. A man who, while uncomfortable, tolerated that intimacy because there was history there.

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