The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 201

Chapter 201

Kevin's POV

I couldn't stop staring at the photo.

Even as I sat behind the wheel of my car, engine idling in the parking lot, my eyes kept drifting back to my phone screen. Back to the image that had shattered something fundamental in my understanding of my own brother.

Julian.

Kissing a man.

My hands tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles went white.

It couldn't be real.

This was the age of AI, deepfakes, digital manipulation. Anyone with basic software could fabricate a photo convincing enough to fool the untrained eye. People did it all the time—created scandals, ruined reputations, spread lies that looked like truth.

That had to be it.

Someone was trying to damage Julian's reputation. Maybe a jealous colleague. Maybe someone who resented his success, his brilliance, his reputation as one of the most sought-after surgeons in his field.

It made sense.

It made more sense than the alternative.

But even as I tried to convince myself, doubt gnawed at the edges of my certainty like rust eating through metal.

I zoomed in on the photo again, studying every pixel, every shadow, every detail.

The lighting looked natural. The angle was candid, not staged. Julian's expression didn't look forced or manipulated. It looked… real.

And the man he was kissing…

I stared at him too, trying to memorize his features. Lean. Well-dressed. Dark hair. Handsome in a quiet, understated way. The kind of face that didn't demand attention but earned it anyway.

He looked familiar somehow, though I couldn't place where I might have seen him before.

My chest felt tight.

Beneath the photo, Marco had included an address to the restaurant.

Not just any restaurant — an upscale French bistro known for its discretion, its private booths, its clientele of people who valued privacy above all else. The kind of place where celebrities, politicians, and anyone else who didn't want to be seen could dine without fear of paparazzi.

Which meant if Julian was there…

He'd chosen it deliberately.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

Before I could second-guess myself, I put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

I had to see this for myself.

…

The drive felt surreal.

My mind kept circling back to the same thoughts, the same questions, the same uncomfortable realizations I'd been avoiding for years without even knowing I was avoiding them.

Julian had never had a girlfriend.

Not in high school. Not in university. Not during his residency or his fellowship or any point in his life that I could remember.

Mom had tried to set him up more times than I could count. Daughters of family friends. Colleagues from the hospital. Beautiful, intelligent, accomplished women who would have been perfect matches by any objective standard.

And Julian had deflected every single one.

Politely. Diplomatically. With excuses that always sounded reasonable in the moment but never quite held up under scrutiny.

Disapproval. Disappointment. A deep-seated belief that it was wrong, unnatural, incompatible with the life God intended.

If Julian was gay…

If he came out…

I didn't know what Mom would do.

I didn't know what any of us would do.

The Laurent family had built its reputation on tradition, stability, respectability. We were public figures—successful, influential, scrutinized. Everything we did mattered. Everything we said was analyzed.

A scandal like this…

My hands tightened on the wheel again.

I pulled up outside the restaurant twenty minutes later, parking across the street where I had a clear view of the entrance.

The restaurant was elegant, understated, its exterior lit by warm golden lights that spilled onto the sidewalk. A doorman stood outside, opening doors for well-dressed patrons as they arrived and departed.

I sat there, engine off, staring at the building.

What was I even doing here?

What did I expect to find?

If Julian was inside with another man, if the photo was real, if this was his truth…

Then what?

Did I confront him? Demand an explanation? Pretend I hadn't seen anything?

I need to call Cynthia. She may have an idea on what I should do.