The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 297

Chapter 297

Ethan's POV

I didn't sleep.

The drawing in front of me wasn't perfect—my artistic skills were limited at best, and working with just a pencil and cheap paper didn't help.

I stared at the drawing, my heart pounding.

Gavin's ultimatum echoed in my mind.

Stay and let her go, or leave and see how far your obsession gets you.

But it wasn't an obsession.

It was love.

Bone-deep, soul-certain love that I couldn't explain but couldn't deny.

And I had to try.

Even if Gavin kicked me out. Even if I ended up homeless and starving. Even if Cynthia had moved on or didn't want me back or never existed in the way I remembered.

I had to try.

Because my heart wouldn't rest until I knew the truth.

…

The moment the sun was fully up, I grabbed the drawing and headed out.

I didn't tell Gavin where I was going.

I just walked out of the farmhouse and started the long trek into the nearest station.

The police station was exactly as I remembered it from my previous visit months ago — a small, run-down building with peeling paint and two officers who looked like they'd rather be anywhere else.

I pushed through the door, my heart racing.

The same two officers from before were there — one older with graying hair, one younger and bored-looking.

They glanced up when I entered.

Recognition flickered across the older one's face.

"You again," he said, not bothering to hide his lack of enthusiasm. "What do you want now?"

I crossed to the counter, laying the drawing flat on the surface between us.

"I need your help," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "I need you to help me find my wife."

The older officer looked down at the drawing.

Then back up at me.

Then down at the drawing again.

And then he started laughing.

A full, genuine laugh that made his whole body shake.

The younger officer leaned over to see what was so funny, and he started laughing too.

My face burned with humiliation and anger.

"What's so funny?" I demanded.

"This," the older officer said, tapping the drawing. "You think we're going to find someone based on... what is this? A child's sketch?"

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