The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 125

Chapter 125

Cynthia's POV

It was noon when I arrived at the restaurant Nikolai had chosen — a small French bistro tucked away on a quiet street downtown, the kind of place that catered to people who valued privacy and discretion over being seen.

The maître d' recognized my name immediately and led me to a corner table where Nikolai was already waiting.

"Cynthia," he said warmly, taking my hand and kissing it briefly. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," I said, settling into the chair he'd pulled out for me. "This place is lovely. Very intimate."

"I thought you might appreciate somewhere we could talk without interruption," he said, resuming his seat. "The food here is excellent, the chef trained in Lyon but more importantly, they understand the value of privacy."

A waiter appeared immediately, pouring water and presenting menus with the efficient grace of expensive service. We ordered and then we were alone again, the lunch crowd around us providing a comfortable murmur of background noise.

"So," I said, unfolding my napkin, "you mentioned you wanted to discuss something?"

Nikolai's expression shifted, becoming more serious. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.

"I've been doing my own investigation," he said. "Into the sabotage of your restaurant. The attacks on Maison Cynclair's reputation."

I felt my stomach tighten. "Nikolai, I told you that wasn't necessary…Nikolai," I said carefully, "I appreciate your concern. I really do. But I need you to stop digging into this."

His eyebrows rose. "Why?"

"Because my brothers have everything under control," I said firmly. "Nathaniel has lawyers and investigators working on this. They're building a case, gathering evidence. Your independent investigation could actually complicate things, muddy the waters legally."

Nikolai studied my face for a long moment. "You know who's behind it, don't you?"

I didn't answer, which was answer enough.

"Cynthia, if you're in danger…"

"I'm not," I assured him, though I wasn't entirely sure that was true. "I have security. My family is watching out for me. And when we have enough evidence, the person responsible will face consequences. But until then, I need you to trust me and let my family handle this."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but finally nodded. "Alright. If that's what you want. But promise me you'll tell me if the situation changes. If you need anything..."

"I promise," I said, relieved that he was backing off.

The waiter arrived with our meals, and for a few minutes we ate in comfortable silence. The duck was perfectly prepared, the skin crispy and the meat tender, and I found myself relaxing slightly.

But then Nikolai set down his fork and looked at me with an expression that made my stomach flip for entirely different reasons.

"Cynthia," he said, his voice taking on a different quality—softer, more vulnerable, "there's something else I need to tell you. Something I've been wanting to say for a while now."

Oh no. I knew that tone. Knew that look.

"Nikolai…"

"Please, let me say this," he interrupted gently. "I need you to know how I feel about you."

I wanted to stop him, to cut this off before it could become awkward and complicated, but my voice wouldn't work.

"From the moment I met you in Paris," he continued, "when I came to celebrate my dad on his birthday, I fell in love with you."

"Nikolai…"

"I know there are complications," he said, speaking faster now like he was afraid I'd stop him. "I know you're still technically married, still processing your divorce. I know there's an age difference between us…"

Nikolai nodded understanding, and I answered quickly.

"Nathaniel?"

"Cynthia, where are you?" His voice was tight with barely contained excitement.

"I'm at lunch. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. We found his location. The man working with Anna, and framing Walker Industries. But we have to keep it on a low profile for now—we need to gather more concrete evidence before we can move. The lawyers are being very careful about this."

I hung up and looked at Nikolai, who was watching me with concern.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"Yes. Family business. I'm sorry, but I need to cut this short…"

"Of course," he said immediately, signaling for the check. "I understand. Family comes first."

The waiter brought the bill and Nikolai paid quickly, waving away my attempt to contribute. We stood and he helped me with my coat, his hands lingering slightly on my shoulders.

"Cynthia," he said as we walked toward the exit, "before you go… Cross Energy is having our end-of-year party next week. December twenty-second. I'd be honored if you would attend as my guest."

I hesitated, caught between the confession I'd just deflected and this new invitation that felt loaded with implications.

"Let me check my schedule," I said finally. "I'll let you know."

"That's all I can ask," Nikolai said, opening the restaurant door for me.