The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 19

Cynthia’s POV

+25 Bonus

My legs wobbled, the panic attack consuming me, and I knew I was giving him exactly what he wanted, vulnerability.

I was going to die here. In front of two hundred people. Destroyed by ghosts from my past who’d decided I didn’t deserve to exist or be happy.

Then I felt a coat. Warm fabric settling around my shoulders like armor.

“I’ve got you.”

Kevin’s voice cut through the panic like a lifeline. His arm was around me, steady and immovable, and suddenly I wasn’t drowning alone. I almost forgot I have knights in shiny amour.

“Security,” he called out, his tone shifting from protective to lethal in a single word. “Remove that man from the building. Now.

11

Marcus had gone pale. For a moment, he’d been untouchable…the architect of my humiliation. Now he was facing three men in dark suits who moved with the efficiency of people trained in precisely this scenario.

“This is…” Marcus started to protest, but the bodyguards were already surrounding him, their presence a physical force that left no room for negotiation.

Mr. Stanley appeared behind them, wringing his hands nervously, his face a study in panic and damage control. “Ms. Cynclair, I am so sorry. I don’t know how he got past…we’ll be issuing a statement immediately. The university completely stands behind you. This is clearly a personal vendetta and…”

I couldn’t hear him over the ringing in my ears.

Kevin guided me toward the exit, his hand never leaving the small of my back. The students parted like water, and I became aware of the phones, the recording, the way this moment was already being immortalized and distributed before we even left the lecture hall.

“Breathe,” Kevin said quietly, once we were in the hallway. “Just breathe with me. In for four, hold for four, out for four. Can you do that?”

I tried. My breath came in stutters and false starts, but I tried.

Kevin was already on his phone. “Julian, I need you on the next flight. No… yes. Cynthia needs you. Now.”

He hung up and called someone else. “Nathaniel? We have a situation. Media situation. I need our legal team and our PR team and…yes.”

Within minutes, we were in the car, Kevin held me while I continued to shake, continued to breathe in stuttering gasps, and continued to feel like I was fragmenting into pieces that would never reassemble.

“He’s lying,” I whispered. “Kevin, he’s lying. I didn’t…I would never…”

“I know,” Kevin said. “I know, Cici. We all know. This is just noise. Ugly, cruel noise, but that’s all it is.”

But it wasn’t just noise. It was my past reaching through time and dragging me back to eighth grade, making me relive it in front

of an audience.

What did I ever do to Marcus Chen to deserve this humillation?

***

12

#19

+25 Bonus

By the time we arrived at the mansion, Nathaniel had mobilized the family’s legal team and was making calls to journalists, university administrators, and anyone else with influence in this city.

I sat on the edge of a bed and tried to stop shaking.

A psychologist arrived within the hour. One of Julian’s colleagues, a woman named Dr. Reeves who specialized in trauma. She didn’t ask many questions. She just sat with me and helped me understand what had happened: that the panic attack was a normal response to a triggering situation, that my body had remembered the fear from my childhood even though my mind

knew I was safe now.

“The videos are being taken down,” Nathaniel said, appearing in the doorway of the bedroom. His expression was controlled, but I could see the rage simmering underneath. “Our team is handling it. We have lawyers preparing cease–and–desist letters. We’re demanding that any institution that spreads those false accusations issue retractions.”

“What about the truth?” I asked quietly. “About what actually happened in eighth grade?”

“The university’s statement has already verified your academic credentials and your restaurant’s legitimacy. That’s the response to the professional accusations. As for the personal history…” He paused. “That’s more complicated. Do you want to address it? We can release a statement. We can have your old classmates who actually know the truth come forward.”

“No,” I said almost immediately knowing that I didn’t have most of my classmates by my side. Anna had ensured she turned everyone against me.

“Then we let it sit,” Nathaniel said firmly. “We acknowledge the professional accusations are false, and we move on.”

Kevin stayed with me all night. Nathaniel coordinated the media response. Julian flew in the next morning and spent hours with me and Dr. Reeves, working through the trauma of everything that happened.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify