The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 119

Chapter 119

Ethan’s POV

I approached their table with all the confidence radiating from me that I could muster.

This was my moment. My chance to disrupt whatever was happening between Cynthia and Bryan, to remind them both that I wasn’t going to just disappear and let my best friend steal my wife.

I sat down beside Cynthia without asking permission, sliding into the chair smoothly and deliberately invading their private meeting. The small table suddenly felt crowded with three people instead of two.

Our eyes met – Bryan’s and mine – and he looked utterly shocked to see me.

His mouth actually fell open slightly, his eyes widening with surprise and something else. Confusion, maybe. Or guilt. He clearly hadn’t expected me to show up here, hadn’t anticipated that I’d been following Cynthia, watching their meeting unfold.

Bryan became visibly uncomfortable immediately. His posture stiffened. His hand moved away from the laptop like he’d been caught doing something wrong. He glanced between Cynthia and me, trying to read the situation, trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

“Ethan,” Bryan said slowly, carefully. “What… what are you doing here?”

“Funny,” I said with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “I was about to ask you the same thing. Having lunch with my wife?”

“It’s a business meeting,” Bryan said, his voice taking on a defensive edge. “I told you I was helping Cynthia with…”

“Did you?” I interrupted. “I don’t recall you mentioning that you’d be having intimate lunches with her. Or that Sienna would be here too. How is she, by the way? She seemed quite… comfortable with you.”

Bryan’s face flushed red. “That wasn’t… she just showed up…”

“Ethan, what are you doing?” Cynthia’s voice cut through our exchange, sharp and cold. She was glaring at me with undisguised anger. “This is a private meeting.”

“No game, baby,” I said, deliberately using the endearment. “I’m just here to support my wife’s business interests.”

After a few more moments of awkward silence and tense glances, Bryan cleared his throat and tried to steer the conversation back to professional territory.

“As I was explaining to Cynthia,” he said, his voice strained but attempting normalcy, “I’ve designed a comprehensive Al system that will integrate with Maison Cynclair’s existing infrastructure. It uses machine learning algorithms to…”

“Al analytics for restaurants,” I interrupted, nodding like I was just learning about this. “Interesting.”

I turned to Cynthia, letting concern color my voice. “Baby, you didn’t tell me you wanted this for your restaurant. I could have asked my team at Walker Industries to build something for you. We have resources, experts, entire departments dedicated to this kind of thing.”

Cynthia’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but I pressed on before she could respond.

I looked back at Bryan, my expression shifting to something between friendly confusion and pointed criticism.

“Bryan, why didn’t you let her know that Walker Industries started a new tech line? It’s fast–growing, actually. We launched it few months ago specifically to compete with Renaissance Group in the business analytics space.”

The jab was subtle but clear. I was reminding Bryan that we were competitors now, that helping Cynthia meant choosing sides, that there were conflicts of interest he should have disclosed.

+25 Bonus

Bryan’s jaw tightened. “I wasn’t aware that Walker Industries had expanded into restaurant–specific Al solutions.”

“Well, we have,” I said smoothly. “And I would have offered Cynthia friends and family pricing. Professional courtesy, you know. Between husband and wife.”

“Soon–to–be ex–husband,” Cynthia interjected, her voice like ice.

That stung, but I didn’t let it show.

“Ethan, stop,” Cynthia said, her voice rising slightly. She turned to me fully now, her eyes blazing. “Stop interrupting. I need to get this done quickly. This is important to my business, and you’re being incredibly disrespectful to both of us.”

“I’m just trying to help…”

“You’re not helping. You’re interfering.” She took a deep breath, clearly trying to control her temper. “If you can’t sit here quietly, then leave. Otherwise, let Bryan finish explaining what he’s built.”

The authority in her voice–the way she spoke to me like I was a misbehaving child rather than her husband –should have made me angry.

Instead, it just made me want her more.

This confident, assertive Cynthia who wouldn’t tolerate my bullshit was intoxicating,

But I nodded and sat back, making a show of zipping my lips.

Bryan looked between us uncertainly, then seemed to decide that finishing quickly was his best option. He turned back to his laptop and continued his presentation, speaking faster now, clearly wanting to get through this as efficiently as possible.

“As I was saying, the system provides real–time analytics on customer preferences, predictive modeling for demand forecasting, and automated reporting that will save your management team hours of manual work each week. The implementation process should take about forty–eight hours once we have access to your servers, and training for your staff can be completed in a single afternoon session…”

He walked through the remaining features quickly, probably glossing over details that Cynthia should have had time to absorb and ask questions about. But the tension at the table was so thick that even Bryan just wanted this over with.

Soon, Bryan was done pitching. He closed his laptop with a decisive click and looked at Cynthia.

“So, what do you think? Does this meet your needs?”

Cynthia studied the screen for another moment, then nodded. “Yes. It’s exactly what we discussed. Very thorough work, Bryan.”

“Great. I’ll have my team begin the implementation process as soon as you give the authorization. Just send me an email confirming you want to proceed, and we’ll coordinate with your manager….Pierre, right? – to schedule the installation.”

“Perfect.” Cynthia stood up abruptly, grabbing her purse from the back of her chair. “Thank you, Bryan. I appreciate you getting this done so quickly.”

“Of course. It was my pleasure to help.”

They shook hands across the table–professional, appropriate, nothing inappropriate about it.

Then Cynthia turned to me, and the warmth that had been in her expression when she looked at Bryan vanished completely.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify