The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 142

Chapter 142

Nikolai’s POV

After Cynthia told me what Matilda had done—how she had cornered her, threatened her with that barely veiled cruelty she hid behind a professional smile—I knew two things with absolute certainty.

First, Matilda had crossed a line she would not be allowed to uncross.

Second, this situation would not resolve itself quietly if I ignored it.

I had tolerated Matilda far longer than I should have. Her persistence, her entitlement, the way she behaved as if proximity alone entitled her to affection—it had always made me uncomfortable, but I had dismissed it as harmless delusion. A nuisance. Something that would eventually fade if I kept my boundaries firm and my distance clear.

But threatening Cynthia?

That was unforgivable.

Cynthia was already carrying enough weight—emotional, psychological, public. The last thing she needed was some delusional woman projecting her obsession onto her and daring to intimidate her. The rage that had settled in my chest when Cynthia told me wasn’t loud or explosive. It was colder than that.

Matilda needed to be stopped. Permanently.

And I knew exactly how to do it.

I drove straight to the hospital where Matilda worked, my grip tight on the steering wheel as the building came into view. It was a private institution—prestigious, well-funded, deeply concerned with reputation. The kind of place where a single scandal could unravel years of carefully constructed credibility.

Perfect.

As I parked, I placed a call to the chairman of the hospital board. The man answered on the second ring, his voice immediately warming when he recognized mine.

“Nikolai,” he said with genuine enthusiasm. “It’s good to hear from you. How are you holding up?”

“Well enough,” I replied evenly. “I’m nearby and was hoping to stop by. Are you in your office?”

“For you? Always,” he said. “Come in.”

I ended the call and stepped out of the car, adjusting my jacket as I walked through the glass doors.

By the time I reached the chairman’s office, his assistant was already standing to open the door.

“Nikolai,” the chairman greeted warmly, rising from behind his desk.

Before I could even say a word, he came around and embraced me, pulling me into a brief but sincere hug.

“My condolences again,” he said quietly. “Your father was a remarkable man.”

“It’s been a while now,” I replied, stepping back with a measured smile. “I’ve made peace with it.”

He studied me closely, as if checking for cracks. “You’ve been inaugurated already, yes?”

“I have,” I nodded. “But I’ll fully resume next year. I’m finishing the semester at Missford University first.”

“Ah, yes,” he chuckled. “Your personal career before empire. Your father would have approved.”

“I think so too.”

He leaned forward, voice firm. “For your sake, Nikolai, I’ll handle this personally. If she doesn’t back off after being cautioned, I’ll strip her license and have her arrested. I won’t tolerate behavior that puts this institution… or your family at risk.”

Good.

“That’s all I’m asking,” I said. “A firm boundary.”

“You have my word.”

We exchanged a few more pleasantries—formal, controlled, the way powerful men do when business has been concluded. He walked me out himself, all the way to the lobby, still offering condolences, still speaking of my father with reverence.

As we stepped into the open space, I noticed them immediately.

Two men standing near the reception desk.

Waiting.

Kevin Laurent was unmistakable—broad shoulders, sharp eyes, the kind of presence that dared people to challenge him. Beside him stood Julian, quieter, more reserved, but no less perceptive. The brothers looked impatient, like men who had come with purpose and did not enjoy waiting.

I had expected this.

Kevin would catch a grenade for Cynthia without hesitation. Julian would calculate the trajectory first, then catch it anyway.

The chairman noticed them too and broke into a smile.

“Dr. Julian!” he exclaimed, delighted.