The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 261

Chapter 261

Ethan's POV

The moment Cynthia disappeared through the door, everything inside me screamed to follow her.

To protect her, to make sure she made it out safely and Pascal doesn’t catch up with her.

But I couldn't because my body wouldn't cooperate.

My legs were shaking, barely holding my weight. My ribs felt like they were on fire with every breath. And the exhaustion from the hospital, combined with Pascal's brutal beating, had left me with almost nothing in reserve.

But I had to try.

I had to get out of here.

Because if I stayed, Grace would kill me.

Or worse… she'd use me as leverage to bring Cynthia back.

I took one stumbling step toward the door when I heard a scream.

Followed by the sound of bodies colliding.

I turned my head, my vision swimming, and saw Grace charging at Anna.

"You traitor!" Grace shrieked, her face twisted with pure fury. "You let them go! You betrayed me!"

Anna tried to back away, her hands up defensively, but Grace was faster than she looked.

She grabbed Anna by the hair and yanked hard, sending Anna stumbling backward.

"I trusted you!" Grace screamed, clawing at Anna's face. "I gave you everything! And you… you…"

Anna shoved Grace away with surprising force, her expression a mixture of fear and determination.

"I'm done!" Anna shouted back. "I'm done being your puppet! I'm done hurting people for you!"

Grace lunged at her again, but Anna was already moving.

She turned and ran away.

Grace stood there for a moment, breathing hard, her face flushed with rage.

Then her eyes landed on me and I saw murder in them. Oh shit! Nothing is stopping her from killing me now.

"You," she hissed.

I tried to move, tried to run, but my legs weren't working properly.

Grace crossed the distance between us faster than I thought possible and swung her hand.

The slap connected with my already battered face with shocking force, sending pain exploding through my skull.

I stumbled backward, nearly falling, my vision blurring.

"You dare try to escape?" Grace snarled. "After everything I've done? After everything I've sacrificed?"

Anger surged through me, I shoved her really hard. Her eyes went wide with shock as she lost her balance, her arms windmilling, and then she fell.

She hit the concrete floor with a satisfying thud, her head bouncing slightly.

For a second, she just lay there, stunned, staring up at me with an expression of complete disbelief.

Like she couldn't process that I — her adopted son, the boy she'd controlled for thirty-five years — had just pushed her.

But I didn't wait to see her reaction.

I turned and ran.

My body was screaming in protest, every step sending fresh waves of pain through my ribs, but I forced myself forward.

Toward the gates, toward freedom, toward my wife, Cynthia.

I made it halfway across the warehouse when I saw Pascal returning back, panting and looking absolutely furious.

Oh shit.

I didn’t know where to run to, I turned back, maybe I would find another exit but before I could move a few steps, his hands grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me backward.

I stumbled, falling, catching myself on my hands and knees, pain exploding through my palms.

I looked up.

Pascal stood over me, breathing hard, his face flushed, sweat dripping down his temples.

He'd been running, chasing Cynthia and from the look on his face—frustrated, empty-handed—he hadn't caught her.

She'd gotten away.

Relief flooded through me, so powerful it almost made me dizzy.

Cynthia was safe.

"Going somewhere?" Pascal asked, his voice dripping with mockery.

I didn't answer.

I just pushed myself to my feet, swaying slightly, and raised my fists.

Pascal laughed.

"You can barely stand," he said. "What do you think you're going to do?"

"Try me," I said through gritted teeth.

Pascal's smile faded.

Then he lunged.

We collided hard, his fists swinging, connecting with my already bruised ribs, my face, my shoulders.

I swung back, aiming for his jaw, his gut, anywhere I could reach.

In that moment, I knew she was going to kill me.

Time seemed to slow down.

Pascal was getting to his feet beside me, breathing hard, watching.

Grace's hand was steady now, her expression cold and determined.

And I thought of Cynthia.

Of Amber.

Of everything I'd never get to do, never get to say, never get to fix.

Then Grace pulled the trigger.

The sound was deafening.

A loud, sharp crack that echoed through the entire warehouse.

And pain exploded through my chest.

Sharp. Burning. All-consuming.

I looked down.

Blood was spreading across my shirt, dark and fast, soaking through the fabric.

I'd been shot.

Grace had actually shot me.

The world tilted.

Everything went blurry at the edges, sounds becoming muffled and distant.

My legs gave out.

I collapsed to the floor, my vision swimming, my chest on fire.

Cynthia.

Amber.

Their faces filled my mind, clear and beautiful and so far away.

I wanted to tell them I loved them.

Wanted to hold them one more time.

Wanted to…

The world went dark.

And I felt nothing at all.