The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 54

Ethan’s POV

When I finally focused through the haze of alcohol, I realized what was actually happening.

Anna. Of course it was Anna.

She’d attacked Sienna, grabbed her by the hair and yanked her off my lap like some kind of territorial animal. Now the two of them were rolling around on the floor, screaming obscenities, while security tried to pull them apart.

Devian was laughing hysterically, clearly entertained by the spectacle. Bryan stood nearby, his expression a mixture of annoyance and resignation.

I wasn’t entertained.

I was exhausted.

This wasn’t what I’d come here for. I’d come to forget, to drown out the pain of Cynthia’s betrayal. Instead, I was watching two women fight over me like I was some kind of prize to be won.

I wasn’t a prize. I was a mess.

Without a word to anyone, I turned and walked toward the exit.

The world was still spinning slightly, and when I reached into my pocket for my car keys, I had enough sense to realize that driving was a terrible idea. I was too drunk. Too unfocused. I’d kill myself or someone else.

Great. Just great.

How the hell was I supposed to get home now?

“Let me drive you.”

I turned to find Bryan walking up behind me, his car keys already in his hand.

“You sure?” I asked, my words slightly slurred.

“You can barely stand straight. You’re not getting behind a wheel.” He nodded toward the parking lot. “Come on. My car’s over there.”

Bryan Ferdinand. My unlikely savior.

I followed him without argument, grateful for the help even if I was too proud to say so. “I’ll send a driver to get my car later,” I muttered as I climbed into the passenger seat.

“Good idea.”

Bryan pulled out of the parking lot and merged onto the main road. The city lights blurred past the window, streaks of color against the dark sky. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, letting the motion of the car soothe my spinning head.

–

For a few minutes, neither of us spoke. The silence was comfortable just two men who’d known each other for years, who didn’t need to fill every moment with conversation.

Then Bryan broke it.

“Do you love Cynthia?”

My eyes snapped open. “What?”

“Cynthia.” He kept his eyes on the road, his voice carefully neutral. “Do you love her?”

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I stared at him, trying to figure out where this was coming from. It was such an awkward question. So completely out of the blue.

“Why are you asking me that?”

Bryan shrugged.

The thought of Cynthia sent a fresh wave of anger crashing through me. She’d stood us up. Left Amber waiting for hours. Sent a pathetic two–line text as if that could possibly make up for what she’d done.

Like our son was an appointment she could push back when something more important came up.

“No,” I said, the word coming out harder than I intended. “I hate her.”

“Hm” Bryan hummed and just kept driving.

I was expecting him to say something else but he just kept driving.

The silence stretched between us, and in that silence, my own words echoed back at me.

‘I hate her.‘

I wished I did. God, I wished I could hate her. It would be so much easier if I could just write her off, dismiss her as the villain in

this story.

The truth was that I’d spent eight years treating her like she was invisible. Eight years of choosing Anna, choosing my mother’s approval, and now she was doing the same thing to me.

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