The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 247

Chapter 247

Nikolai's POV

I sat comfortably in the Laurent family's elegant sitting room, a cup of expensive coffee in my hand, listening to Victoria and Helen chat animatedly about Christmas traditions, family stories, and their plans for the day.

It was… nice.

Warm.

The kind of family atmosphere I hadn't experienced in years — not since my father had passed, not since I'd been left alone to navigate the corporate world and the crushing weight of grief. Back then, Christmas had become just another day on the calendar. A date I'd learned to move through efficiently, without sentiment, without the softness that holidays demanded. I'd gotten very good at that — at moving through things without feeling them.

Victoria Laurent had embraced me with an openness that still surprised me.

She'd insisted I stay for Christmas.

Insisted I was "family now."

Insisted that a young man like me shouldn't spend the holidays alone.

And I'd accepted.

Not just because I genuinely appreciated the warmth and hospitality. But because being here — in Cynthia's family home, surrounded by the people she loved — brought me closer to her. It was the next best thing to having her beside me. I could study the photographs on the mantle, catch the way her mother's laugh carried traces of hers, understand a little more of the world that had shaped her.

Victoria clearly approved of me.

That much was obvious.

The way she smiled at me, the way she spoke about Cynthia in my presence, the way she dropped not-so-subtle hints about how "wonderful" it would be if Cynthia found someone "stable and successful and kind" — it was all very transparent.

And I didn't mind.

Because winning Victoria's approval was a crucial step. Mothers had influence. Especially mothers like Victoria Laurent — powerful, respected, deeply invested in her daughter's happiness. If Victoria was on my side, that was half the battle won.

Now I just needed to win Cynthia.

And Amber.

My mind drifted briefly to the moment earlier when Cynthia had announced she was going back to the hospital.

To bring food to Ethan.

It had stung.

More than I wanted to admit.

Because despite everything — despite the separation, despite the pain Ethan had caused her, despite the fact that their marriage was clearly crumbling — Cynthia still cared about him. Still thought about him. Still made him food on Christmas morning with the same quiet devotion she probably gave everything she loved. That was simply who she was. I knew that. I respected it, even as it twisted something uncomfortable in my chest.

I'd hidden my disappointment behind a polite smile.

Told myself it was understandable.

They weren't divorced yet.

They shared a son.

Of course she'd still feel some obligation toward him.

But it didn't make it hurt any less.

Still, I reminded myself to be patient.

Cynthia was worth waiting for.

And I had time.

Or at least, I thought I did.

"Nikolai, dear, would you like more coffee?" Victoria asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Laurent," I said with a smile. "This is perfect."

Helen, Nathaniel's wife, leaned forward slightly, her expression curious and genuinely warm — the kind of warmth that wasn't performative, that came naturally to people who'd grown up in homes like this one.

"So, Nikolai," she said, "how long have you been in Missford? It must be quite different from what you're used to."

"Barely a year. It's different," I admitted. "But in a good way. I've been traveling so much for work over the past few years that it's nice to be somewhere… grounded. Somewhere that feels like it could be home."

"Kevin?"

He stopped.

His entire body went rigid.

His expression shifted from confusion to shock to something that looked like pure, unfiltered horror.

"What?" Nathaniel yelled, his voice so loud it echoed through the room.

The entire atmosphere changed instantly.

Victoria stood abruptly, her face going pale.

Helen's hand flew to her mouth.

I set my coffee cup down, alarm shooting through me.

"What's going on?" Victoria demanded, moving toward Nathaniel. "What happened?"

Nathaniel held up a hand, still listening intently to whatever Kevin was saying on the other end of the line. His jaw clenched. His free hand curled into a fist at his side.

"Are you sure?" Nathaniel asked, his voice tight. "Both of them? And there's blood?"

My stomach dropped.

Blood.

"I'm on my way," Nathaniel said sharply. "Don't touch anything. Call Detective Morrison. And Kev — keep Amber safe. Don't let him see anything."

He hung up and immediately turned to Victoria.

"Cynthia's missing," he said, his voice strained.

Victoria gasped, her hand flying to her chest.

"What?" she whispered.