The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 281

Chapter 281

Cynthia's POV

Five months since Ethan had disappeared from that warehouse, leaving behind nothing but blood and unanswered questions.

One hundred and fifty-two days of waking up each morning and forcing myself to believe that today might be the day we'd finally get answers, living in a suspended state between hope and despair, between moving forward and standing completely still.

But I hadn't given up.

I'd promised Kevin I wouldn't, and I'd meant it.

So I'd pulled myself together, piece by painful piece. I'd gotten out of bed. I'd started eating regularly again. I'd left Amber at Nathaniel and Helen's visiting as often as possible and promising him that things would get better, even though I wasn't entirely sure I believed it myself.

And I'd started building something new.

A restaurant here in Missford.

Not to replace Maison Cynclair in Paris, but to give myself something to focus on besides the endless waiting. Something concrete and real that I could pour my energy into instead of letting the grief consume me whole.

The space I'd chosen was perfect — an old converted warehouse in the arts district with exposed brick walls, high ceilings with original wooden beams, and massive windows that let in beautiful natural light.

Nathaniel and Kevin had kept their promises too.

Every week, one of them would sit down with me and give me updates on the private investigators they'd hired. Three different firms, actually, working independently to follow any lead that might bring us closer to finding Ethan. They'd traced Grace's financial records, tracked down Pascal's known associates, interviewed everyone who might have information about where they could have taken him.

They'd found nothing concrete yet, but they hadn't stopped looking. Hadn't even slowed down. And I was grateful to have brothers who cared that much. Who understood that I needed them to keep searching, even when the odds seemed impossible. Even when everyone else had already moved on.

I counted the days religiously. Kept a mental tally of every sunrise, every sunset, every moment that passed without Ethan.

Nikolai had been incredible throughout everything.

More than incredible, really. He'd shown up at the restaurant site almost daily, offering help however he could. Sometimes it was practical — using his business connections to get better deals on kitchen equipment, recommending contractors who did excellent work, helping me navigate the permits and licenses I needed. Other times it was simply emotional support — sitting with me over coffee while I talked through my vision for the space, listening patiently when I needed to vent about the frustration of not knowing where Ethan was, offering quiet encouragement when the weight of everything threatened to crush me.

He'd also been helping manage Maison Cynclair in Paris for me.

I'd refused to go back there myself. Couldn't bear the thought of leaving Missford when Ethan was still missing somewhere, possibly nearby, possibly needing me. The idea of being an ocean away when news finally came felt impossible. So Nikolai had stepped in without hesitation, coordinating with my head chef there, handling the business side of things, making sure my Paris restaurant continued to thrive even while I was here, waiting.

My mother had noticed Nikolai's dedication, of course.

She'd cornered me in the mansion library just last week.

"Cynthia," she'd started, settling into the chair across from me. "I want to talk to you about Nikolai."

I'd looked up from the design sketches I'd been reviewing for the restaurant. "What about him?"

"He's been very intentional about being here for you," Victoria had said. "Very present. Very supportive."

"He's a good friend," I'd replied carefully, sensing where this was going.

"He's more than that," Victoria had continued. "And we both know it. He cares for you deeply, Cynthia. Anyone can see that."

I'd set down my pencil, giving her my full attention. "Mom…"

"I know you're still waiting for Ethan," Victoria had interrupted gently. "And I understand that. I do. But darling, it's been five months. And as much as I hope we'll find him, you need to consider the possibility that we might not."

The words had hit like a slap, even though I'd been bracing for them.

"After a year," Victoria had said quietly, "if Ethan is still missing... I think you should consider moving on. Starting a new life. With Nikolai."

I'd stared at her, not trusting myself to speak.

"He would be good for you," Victoria had continued. "He's successful, stable, kind. And the alliance between the Cross and Laurent families would be incredibly powerful. Good for business. Good for…"

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