The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 157

Chapter 157

Cynthia's POV

I watched Amber disappear up the stairs, his footsteps growing fainter with each step as he headed toward his room. He didn’t look back. He trusted me enough not to. That thought twisted painfully in my chest.

Only when I heard the soft, unmistakable click of his door closing did I allow myself to move.

My knees felt weak, like they might give out at any second. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel each violent beat in my throat, in my ears, in the tips of my fingers. I stood there for a moment longer than I should have, listening, counting my breaths, forcing myself not to panic.

Grace’s voice drifted through the open door leading to the veranda, smooth and unhurried, her tone casual and satisfied in a way that made my skin crawl. It was the sound of someone who believed she was winning.

I moved quietly down the hall, keeping close to the wall as though it might somehow shield me. The marble floor felt too loud beneath my feet, every step an imagined echo. I kept my breathing shallow and controlled, afraid even the sound of air leaving my lungs might give me away.

The veranda doors were partially open, the sheer curtains stirring gently in the late afternoon breeze. Through the narrow gap, I could see Grace’s silhouette framed against the fading light. She was pacing slowly, unbothered, phone pressed to her ear, completely absorbed in her conversation—completely unaware of how close I was.

I crept closer, inch by inch, until I could position myself just out of sight behind the doorframe. My pulse roared in my ears as I leaned forward, straining to hear every word.

“Oh, dearest,” Grace was saying, her voice warm with a kind of affection I’d never once heard her use with Ethan. It was intimate. Familiar. “I can’t wait for you to take over the company. Ethan wouldn’t even know what hit him.”

My stomach clenched so hard I thought I might be sick.

She laughed softly, a low, indulgent sound. “Yes, everything is falling into place. Just as we planned.”

My fingers curled against the wood of the doorframe.

“He’s suspecting me,” Grace continued, her voice dropping lower now, sharper, edged with irritation. “Earlier today, he almost…”

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

The sound was soft, barely audible but in the tense silence, it might as well have been a gunshot.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

Grace stopped mid-sentence.

There was a pause. One heartbeat. Then another.

“Hold on,” she said into the phone.

I didn’t wait to see what she’d do next.

My hands fumbled for my phone, fingers clumsy with panic as I silenced it as fast as I could. I pressed myself flat against the wall, my back cold against the surface, my heart pounding so violently I was sure she’d hear it, feel it, sense it somehow.

Through the narrow gap in the door, I saw Grace turn around slowly. Her movements were unhurried, deliberate. Her sharp eyes scanned the space behind her, suspicion hardening her expression, every line of her face suddenly alert.

“She’s involved,” Nathaniel finished grimly.

A cold chill slid down my spine.

“She’s crazy,” I whispered urgently. “She could as well have Ethan killed. I just heard her. She was on the phone with someone and she asked why it was taking so long to have him leave the surface of the earth.”

Nathaniel cursed viciously on the other end. “Get out of that house. Now.”

“I can’t,” I said, panic tightening my chest. “Amber’s upstairs. I told him to stay in his room, but I can’t leave him here with her. If she realizes I overheard…”

“Cynthia…”

“She’s a fucking bitch, Nathaniel,” I said, anger bleeding through the fear now, my voice shaking. “She’s been playing everyone. She’s been…”

“Oh, really?”

The voice came from directly behind me.

My entire body went rigid.

Slowly, I turned around.