The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 227

Chapter 227

Ethan's POV

The police station felt like a bureaucratic labyrinth designed specifically to drive me insane.

I'd been shunted from one desk to another for the past hour, each officer giving me the same rehearsed explanation, the same apologetic shrug, the same infuriating answer. Each one delivered with the practiced detachment of someone who had long ago stopped being surprised by the failures of the system they served.

Lack of substantial evidence.

Bail was posted.

Our hands were tied.

I stood in front of Detective Morrison's desk now, my hands gripping the edge so tightly my knuckles had gone white. The fluorescent lights above hummed with a low, persistent buzz that was doing nothing for the tension already coiled behind my eyes.

"Let me get this straight," I said, my voice dangerously low. "Anna sabotaged a restaurant. She embezzled money from my company. She's been charged with child endangerment. And she walked free because of lack of substantial evidence?"

Morrison sighed, running a hand over her face. She looked tired. But not nearly as tired as I felt.

"Look, Walker, I know you're frustrated…"

"Frustrated?" I cut her off. "I'm beyond frustrated. This is corruption. Pure and simple."

Morrison's expression hardened. "I'm sorry Mr. Walker. You would have to excuse me, I have work to do."

God, I couldn't really believe this was happening and I knew she was withholding something. The way her eyes had shifted just slightly when I mentioned Pascal's name. The way she'd moved on a fraction too quickly. She knew more than she was saying.

I left the police station feeling like I'd been punched in the gut.

The entire drive back to the Walker mansion, my mind churned through possibilities, scenarios, connections I might have missed. Someone had gotten to the evidence. Someone with enough reach and enough money to make a criminal case dissolve overnight. And I had a very clear idea of who that someone was.

What else had Pascal compromised?

And more importantly — what was he planning next?

My thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Cynthia.

Anna had said Pascal blamed her for Grace's fall. That he thought she'd tried to kill his mother. That he was planning to make her pay.

I needed to warn her. Needed to make sure she was safe, even though I did not want to have anything to do with her anymore. The two things existed in me simultaneously, uncomfortably, like oil and water refusing to separate.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away.

Focus, Ethan. One crisis at a time.

I pulled into the driveway of the Walker mansion and killed the engine.

Then I just sat there for a moment, staring at the house. It looked the same as it always had — imposing, immaculate, indifferent. But it felt different now. Hollowed out somehow. Like a stage set after the actors had all gone home.

I climbed out of the car slowly, my legs feeling heavier than they should.

Maybe I was just tired.

Or maybe it was the weight of everything pressing down on me — Grace's betrayal, Anna's freedom, Pascal's threats, Cynthia's distance. Each one manageable on its own. Together, they were suffocating.

But even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a lie.

Because the dizziness was getting worse.

My legs felt weak.

Unsteady.

Like they might give out at any second. Like the ground beneath me had become something unreliable — shifting and uncertain and no longer safe to stand on.

"Mr. Walker…"

I took a step forward.

And then the world tilted violently.

The floor rushed up to meet me.

I heard Mrs. Daniels scream.

"Mr. Walker! Oh my God! Mr. Walker!"

Her voice echoed, distant and distorted, bouncing off the walls of the foyer like sound in an empty cathedral, as darkness closed in around the edges of my vision.

And then everything went black.