The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 235

Chapter 235

Cynthia's POV

Kevin and I stood in the hallway outside Ethan's hospital room, after he had sent us out. He was definitely angry at me because of the whole issue at the Cross Energy party.

The doctor had just finished briefing us — Ethan would need to stay for at least two more days for observation, they'd continue the IV fluids and nutrient supplements, and he'd need to follow up with a nutritionist once discharged.

Malnourishment.

The word kept echoing in my head.

How had it gotten this bad?

How had no one noticed?

How had I not noticed?

I was still lost in thought when the door to Ethan's room opened.

Bryan stepped out first.

His expression was carefully controlled, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes.

Something had happened inside that room.

Then Devian emerged.

And he looked furious.

His jaw was clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might crack. His hands were balled into fists at his sides. His entire body radiated barely suppressed rage.

The moment his eyes landed on Kevin, everything shifted.

"You," Devian spat, taking a step forward.

Kevin straightened immediately, his posture shifting into something defensive.

Bryan moved faster.

He grabbed Devian's arm, pulling him back before he could get any closer to Kevin.

"Don't," Bryan said firmly.

But Devian shook him off, his glare still locked on Kevin.

"You're such a gigolo," Devian said, his voice dripping with venom. "I feel so sorry for Cynthia that she doesn’t know who you really are" he turned to me and gave me a very bad glare.

The word hit the air like a slap.

Kevin's expression darkened instantly.

"What did you just say?" Kevin asked, his voice dangerously low.

"You heard me," Devian shot back. "A gigolo. A man who uses women for their money and status. That's exactly what you are."

Kevin took a step forward, his entire demeanor shifting from calm to lethal in the span of a heartbeat.

"Careful, Devian," Kevin said coldly. "You're talking about things you don't understand."

"I understand exactly what you are," Devian countered. "You've been circling Cynthia like a vulture ever since. You don't care about her. I just don’t get it. Why are you in her life? Go on and focus on your racing shit! Leave her alone!."

Kevin laughed—a short, bitter sound.

"That's rich," Kevin said, "coming from Ethan's little puppet."

Devian's face flushed red.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me," Kevin said, his tone sharpening. "You're nothing but a tool. A follower. You do whatever Ethan tells you to do, think whatever Ethan tells you to think. You don't have a single original thought in your head."

"Kevin—" I started, but he wasn't done.

"You want to call me a gigolo?" Kevin continued, his voice rising. "Fine. But at least I'm not a spineless lapdog who bases his entire identity on someone else's approval."

Devian's hands clenched into fists.

Bryan stepped between them again, more forcefully this time.

"That's enough," Bryan said sharply. "Both of you. This is a hospital. Show some respect."

But Kevin wasn't finished.

"You follow Ethan around like you're waiting for scraps," Kevin said, his words cutting and deliberate. "You defend him no matter what he does, no matter who he hurts. And for what? So he'll keep you around? So you can feel important?"

But Bryan had already turned away.

…

The ride back to the Laurent mansion was silent at first.

Kevin drove with his usual steady focus, his hands gripping the wheel, his jaw still tight.

I sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, my mind racing.

Everything felt like it was falling apart.

Ethan in the hospital.

Bryan and Devian walking away.

Kevin's anger.

My mother's secrets.

Grace's lies.

It was too much.

All of it was too much.

Then, unbidden, a thought surfaced. It is Christmas and I promised Amber chicken sauce for Christmas.

I'd promised him weeks ago that I'd make it for him for Christmas. His favorite dish—the one I used to make when we were still a family, when things were simpler, when the Walker mansion still felt like home.

I glanced at the dashboard clock.

12:47 AM.

Christmas morning.

If I started now, I could have it ready by breakfast. I could deliver it to the hospital so Ethan and Amber could have it together.

It wasn't much.

But it was something.