The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 318

Chapter 318

Cynthia's POV

The knock on the door came far too early.

I was still in bed with Ethan, both of us tangled in the sheets, my body deliciously sore from the night and early morning — we'd spent reacquainting ourselves with each other.

We'd finally fallen asleep maybe two hours ago, and now someone was knocking insistently on the bedroom door.

"Mom! Dad!" Amber's voice called through the wood. "Detective Susan is here! She says it's important!"

Ethan groaned beside me, burying his face in the pillow.

"Tell her to come back in ten years," he mumbled.

I couldn't help but laugh, even as panic jolted through me.

Detective Susan.

Which meant something had happened with the investigation.

"We'll be right down," I called back to Amber.

Ethan and I scrambled out of bed, both of us wincing at various aches and pains—his from his injuries, mine from... well.

We threw on clothes hastily — me in one of Ethan's shirts and yoga pants, him in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror and grimaced.

My hair was a disaster. My lips were swollen. There were visible marks on my neck and collarbone that I hadn't bothered to hide.

Ethan looked equally disheveled—his hair sticking up in every direction, stubble shadowing his jaw, his own collection of marks visible where my shirt hung low.

We looked exactly like what we were.

Two people who'd spent the entire night having extremely enthusiastic reunion sex.

"Maybe I should change," I said, pulling at Ethan's shirt.

"No time," Ethan said, grabbing my hand. "Come on."

We made our way downstairs to find Detective Susan waiting in the living room, her expression professional but with a hint of amusement when she saw us.

Mrs. Daniels was hovering nearby with a tray of coffee, clearly having been the one to let the detective in.

Amber sat on the couch, swinging his legs, watching everything with bright, curious eyes.

Detective Susan cleared her throat delicately when we entered.

Her eyes took in our appearance — the disheveled hair, the marks, the obvious just-rolled-out-of-bed energy we were both radiating.

"Good morning," she said, and I could swear there was the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "I apologize for the early intrusion."

"It's fine," Ethan said, settling onto the couch and pulling me down beside him. "What's happened?"

Detective Susan opened the file folder she'd been holding.

"Grace Walker has confessed," she said. "To everything. The kidnapping, the shooting, the months of hiding. She's hoping it will help reduce Pascal's sentence, though I'm fairly certain they'll both be serving similar punishments."

My chest tightened.

"What kind of punishments?" I asked.

"Significant jail time," Detective Susan said. "Decades, most likely. The DA is still determining exact charges, but kidnapping, attempted murder, conspiracy—Grace and Pascal are facing serious consequences."

Good.

They deserved it.

After everything they'd done, after the months of hell they'd put us through…

They deserved every year they'd spend in prison.

Detective Susan flipped to another page in her file.

"There's something else," she said, her expression becoming more serious. "Grace also confessed to having an accomplice."

My stomach dropped.

"Who?" Ethan asked, though his tone suggested he already knew.

"Bryan Ferdinand," Detective Susan said.

The name hung in the air.

I felt cold suddenly, despite the warm morning and Ethan's solid presence beside me.

"He gave Grace ten million dollars," Detective Susan continued. "To help her escape. To ensure she was never found. And explicitly to make sure Ethan stayed missing."

She looked directly at me.

"He wanted you, Ms. Laurent," she said bluntly. "And he was willing to pay a fortune and aid fugitives to ensure your husband never came home."

I felt sick.

All those months of Bryan being supportive, showing up at the restaurant, offering help and comfort and friendship…

I looked at Ethan, expecting to see shock or anger.

But his expression was resigned.

Almost... unsurprised.

"You knew," I said. "Didn't you?"

Ethan shrugged slightly.

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