The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 251

Chapter 251

Cynthia's POV

I was livid.

Beyond furious.

The fear was still there, making my heart race and my hands shake — but it was being rapidly overtaken by pure, white-hot rage.

"What's the point of this?" I demanded, my voice echoing through the warehouse. "Why did you have to kidnap us? What do you possibly hope to gain from this?"

Grace turned her attention to me, her smile widening.

"Oh, Cynthia," she said, her tone patronizing. "Always so dramatic. So emotional."

"Answer the question," I shot back.

Grace's expression shifted into something darker.

"I did what I had to do," she said simply. "Twenty years ago, things didn't work out the way they were supposed to. Jerome's plan failed. He died. And I was left with nothing."

She leaned forward slightly, with her bandaged head from that fall at the verandah. The gauze was slightly stained at the temple — yellowish at the edges, like the wound beneath it wasn't quite done bleeding.

It made her look more frightening, not less.

"But this time," Grace continued, her voice dropping into something cold and determined, "this time, it's going to work perfectly."

"What are you talking about?" Ethan demanded, his voice rough.

Grace turned to him, her smile returning.

"All I need," she said slowly, "is your fingerprint. And your signature."

My stomach dropped.

"And once I have those," Grace continued, "Pascal and I will have everything we ever wanted. Walker Industries. The fortune. The power. All of it."

She looked supremely satisfied with her evil. There was something deeply unsettling about the way she held herself. As though all of this — the warehouse, the ropes, — was simply a boardroom she had called to order.

"It's really quite simple," she added. "You sign over control of the company. Transfer the assets. And then…"

She trailed off, but the implication was clear.

And then you disappear.

Ethan let out a harsh, bitter laugh.

"You're insane," he said flatly.

"Perhaps," Grace agreed. "But I'm also very, very determined."

I looked around desperately, trying to find something — anything — that could help us.

But there was nothing.

Just concrete walls, shadows, and the three people holding us hostage.

The ropes around my wrists were cutting into my skin every time I shifted, and the cold from the concrete floor had long since seeped through my clothes and into my bones. I tried to slow my breathing. Tried to think clearly. Because panic wasn't going to get us out of this. Panic was what Grace wanted. She fed on it. She had probably been rehearsing this moment for years, replaying it in whatever dark corner of her mind she lived in, refining it, perfecting it — and the very last thing I was going to do was give her the performance she had written for me.

My gaze landed on Anna.

And I froze, wondering what she was thinking or doing, because this wasn't Anna.

The Anna I knew would be smiling, gloating and definitely would be enjoying this the way I would have expected.

Normally, Anna thrived on this kind of thing. On seeing me suffer. On watching me break.

But right now?

She looked… uncomfortable.

Distant.

Almost… guilty.

"Pascal, I could be pregnant," she said. "I feel really sick. That's a symptom, right? Oh my God, what if I'm carrying your baby?"

Ethan let out a disgusted sound, rolling his eyes.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath.

But Grace's reaction was entirely different.

She laughed.

A loud, delighted laugh that echoed through the warehouse.

"Pregnant?" Grace repeated, her eyes sparkling with something that looked disturbingly like joy. "With Pascal's child?"

Anna nodded hesitantly.

"Well," Grace said, still smiling, "if you are pregnant, Anna, it had better be a boy this time. I need an heir for Walker Industries. A proper heir. Not another useless daughter."

Anna flinched at the words, her expression tightening.

But she didn't respond.

Ethan, however, did.

"You're not getting Walker Industries, Grace," he said, his voice cold and final.

Grace turned to look at him, her smile widening into something cruel.

"Oh, Ethan," she said softly. "But I already have."

"No, you don't," Ethan shot back. "You can tie me up. You can threaten me. You can do whatever the hell you want. But I'm not signing anything. You hear me? Nothing."

Grace's smile didn't falter.

"We'll see about that," she said.