The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 147

Chapter 147

Ethan’s POV

I should have driven straight to the company, but the documents. I need to get them from my study back at home.

My jaw clenched as I turned the wheel toward the house instead of downtown. There were files in my study — original contracts, internal authorizations.

My phone buzzed with calls but I ignored them. I couldn’t afford to be distracted right now.

I pulled into the driveway with more force than necessary, tires crunching against gravel. The house loomed ahead, pristine and grand, its white walls gleaming under the afternoon sun like nothing in the world could touch it.

That illusion shattered the moment I stepped inside.

Laughter echoed from the living room.

Not the polite, restrained kind my mother used at charity luncheons or board dinners. Not the amused chuckle she offered guests.

This was loud.

Hysterical.

It bubbled over, sharp and unrestrained, like someone was genuinely entertained by a private joke the rest of the world hadn’t been let in on.

I slowed my steps.

At first, I assumed she was on the phone with one of her friends. My mother laughed often when she gossiped — she treated information like currency, traded secrets the way others traded stocks. Normally, I would have walked past without a second thought.

Then I heard my name.

“Ethan must be running helter-skelter right now.”

She laughed again, harder this time.

The sound crawled up my spine.

I stopped completely, one hand still resting on the doorframe that separated the hallway from the living room. My pulse thudded in my ears, each beat louder than the last.

Running helter-skelter?

Why would that be funny?

I leaned back slightly, keeping myself out of sight.

“Oh, dear,” she continued, voice dripping with delight. “I can’t wait to see his face when everything finally comes together.”

A chill crept through me, cold and unwelcome.

Those words didn’t belong in the mouth of someone who was supposed to be worried about the company. Or about her son.

I edged closer, careful not to make a sound. The floor was unforgiving but adrenaline sharpened my focus.

Who was she talking to?

“…after all,” she went on, her tone smug now, “a little chaos is necessary for growth. And it’s not as if he didn’t deserve a wake-up call.”

My stomach dropped.

This wasn’t idle gossip.

This was… satisfaction.

Something clattered behind me.

This was the woman who had raised me. The woman who taught me how to sit through board meetings, she drilled into me that image was everything, that perception mattered more than intention.

And right now, she looked… cornered.

“Who were you talking to?” I asked.

She laughed again, but this time it was forced. “Oh, just one of the ladies. You know how bored I get in this house.”

My eyes narrowed.

“You were laughing about me and the downfall of the company.”

Her smile stiffened. “Ethan, don’t be dramatic.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped.

The word seemed to land harder than I intended. Her eyes widened slightly, offended.

She straightened her shoulders, regaining some of her poise. “You’re clearly stressed,” she said coolly. “Which is understandable, given everything that’s happening. But that doesn’t give you the right to interrogate me in my own home.”

“Everything that’s happening?” I repeated. “You mean the scandal? The investors pulling out? Anna dragging my name through the mud?”

She hesitated just for a fraction of a second.

She scoffed. “Of course I know what’s going on. These things don’t happen in a vacuum, but don’t misunderstand the whole thing.”

“No,” I said, stepping closer now, anger coiling tight in my chest. “You sound… entertained about what is currently happening, Mother.”

“Ethan…”

My voice came out low, dangerous, stripped of any remaining patience. “What the fuck is going on?”