The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Cynthia’s POV

“Come on, Cynthia, let’s go get some Foie Gras hot dogs. I’m craving them,” Kevin said, tugging my wrist like a child begging his mom for candy.

I sighed and gave in. “Okay, okay, jeez. You’re worse than a toddler.”

He grinned. “You love me for it.”

Honestly, I did need a break. My head had been spinning all morning with that stupid Marcus Chen drama, I just wanted to feel normal again. Kevin was the only person around who could drag me out of my dark thoughts and make me laugh like nothing was wrong.

Still, I wasn’t sure I was in the mood to be seen in public.

“I really don’t have the strength for the paparazzi today,” I muttered. “And you know what happened after that video went viral. The last thing I want is some random stranger recognizing me.”

Kevin tapped his chin as if he was thinking deeply, then his face lit up. “Wait here.”

He disappeared into his room and came back a few minutes later holding two baseball caps and a pair of sunglasses. “We’re going undercover,” he said, like it was the most brilliant plan in the world.

I laughed. “Oh, how thoughtful. I’m sure no one will recognize an F1 superstar in a hat and shades.”

He shrugged. “Hey, it works in movies.”

So, I put on the cap and sunglasses. “Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.”

We got into his car and drove toward downtown Missford. The Foie Gras Hot Dogs stand was a small but fancy–looking place — the kind of food truck that catered to rich people pretending to be “down to earth.” French–American fusion, gourmet ingredients, expensive everything. Of course, Kevin loved it.

He parked beside the lot and jumped out eagerly and I followed after him and he gestured me to sit in a designated waiting area along with others. “Stay here, undercover princess,” he teased. “I’ll grab the food.”

“Make sure it’s extra foie,” I called after him.

I sat slightly hunched, my face half–hidden behind my cap. My heart was still uneasy. Even though Kevin was calm, I couldn’t shake off the anxiety of being recognized. That viral video of Marcus harassing me was still everywhere. People loved drama, and I didn’t want to give them more of it by showing up in public with a world–famous racer.

Kevin was already chatting animatedly at the counter. A few people were already taking pictures of him. He didn’t seem to mind. He was used to attention – I wasn’t.

While I waited, I noticed three men walking into the small seating area and they grabbed a seat very close to where I was sitting. They were dressed in expensive suits, clearly not the usual hotdog crowd. The moment I recognized them, my pulse spiked. The last three people I wanted to see on earth.

I instantly pulled the cap lower, practically sinking into my seat. Of all the places in Missford, they had to come here? Since when did they even eat hotdogs from a truck?

Seeing Ethan’s face for the second time since I came back to Missford and his two annoying friends Bryan and Devian, all I wanted to do was disappear. I took another look at Ethan and my heart betrayed me, pondering at the sight of him, he looked…. good. That new calm, mature look only made him more attractive. I hated that I noticed.

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I forced myself to look away. I didn’t want to feel anything. If I should feel anything it is hate and disgust.

“Guys, I still can’t believe Cynthia is alive.” Bryan said as they just finished talking about work.

Well, they can’t keep my name off their mouths, can they?

Kevin, who had just returned with our food, froze when he saw the way I tensed up. He followed my gaze, spotted Ethan and his friends, and sighed. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered. He quickly sat across from me, deliberately blocking me from their line of sight.

“Don’t panic,” he said softly. “I’ve got you covered. Just eat your food and pretend they don’t exist.”

I nodded weakly, though I could still hear their voices perfectly.

“Man, did you see that video?” Devian said between bites of his hotdog. “That guy really went for her. I never thought I’d actually feel bad for Cynthia, but she looked… I don’t know, lost.”

Bryan snorted. “She was always lost. Always trying too hard to fit in. I guess that’s how she ended up at Missford University, pretending to be some big–shot professor.” He leaned back, shaking his head. “But damn, her cooking was good. Is it true she’s the Michelin chef everyone’s talking about?”

Ethan didn’t say a word. He just stared into his drink, his expression unreadable.

Kevin’s hands clenched into fists. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I said, though my throat felt tight. “I’m fine. Let’s just finish our hotdogs.”

I wasn’t fine. They used to mock me back then too, I actually did always try to fit in- quiet comments during dinner parties, condescending smiles when I tried to join conversations about business or travel. Bryan and Devian had made it clear I didn’t belong in their circle. I was “the wife,” not an equal. Just someone Ethan had been forced to marry because of his father’s will.

I remembered overhearing them one night at a charity gala, drunk and careless.

“Ethan, you should just divorce her, man,” Bryan had said. “Marry Anna instead. She’s smart, connected, and can actually elevate you.”

And Ethan had said nothing, he just smiled and diverted the topic.

So yeah, seeing them again now laughing, eating, talking about me like I was some forgotten memory – it stung.

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