The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 61

#61

Chapter 61

Cynthia’s POV

Nikolai walked into the restaurant just as the call connected.

“Hello?”

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it felt like

“Hello, Bryan. This is Cynthia…” I hesitated for a fraction of a second. I hated introducing myself as Cynthia Walker wearing a skin that no longer fit. But he needed to recognize me, and like it or not, I was still legally married to Ethan. “Cynthia Walker.”

There was a brief pause from Bryan’s end. So long that I thought he might have hung up.

My gaze drifted to Nikolai, who had stopped a few feet away, his expression shifting as he heard the name I’d used. There was disappointment and curiosity in his eyes over the fact that I’d called myself Cynthia Walker.

“Hey,” Bryan finally said.

It was awkward. I’d been bracing myself for mockery, for the kind of sarcastic remarks he and Devian usually traded at my expense. I expected him to ask why I was calling, to make me grovel before he’d even consider listening.

But none of that came.

“Are you calling concerning Amber?” Bryan asked instead.

My heart stopped.

“What happened to Amber?”

Bryan didn’t answer immediately. In the background, I heard muffled voices

–

movement, commotion.

“I’ve been trying to reach Ethan but he hasn’t been taking his calls,” I said, my words tumbling out faster now. “I feel something is off. Please, could you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Hey, calm down. He’s going to be alright. This is common.” 1

That was Devian’s voice sounding distant, like Bryan had moved away from earshot. Devian sounded like was comforting someone. Comforting Ethan?

Then I heard Ethan’s voice

But Bryan must have walked far away because the words became muffled, indistinct. He didn’t want me to hear.

“Bryan!” I was nearly shouting now. “Please! What happened to Amber?”

“Amber is in the hospital.”

The words hit me like a physical blow.

“If you can, hurry over. I’ll send you the address.”

“What happened? Is he okay? Bryan…”

“I have to go.”

The line went dead.

I stood there, frozen, the phone still pressed to my ear even though there was nothing but silence on the other end.

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My vision blored at the edges. My legs gave out timesh

“Canthial” Nikolai was there in an thetent, His wrths C Wrong?

“I have to go back to Missford,” 1 gasped, clutching at Wake Yo

“What’s going on? Talk to me ”

“My son.” The words came out choked, broken “My Amber that

furg verkar Stamperested?

Tears were streaming down my face before I even realized i was crying Flot, desperate rears that re

Pierre appeared beside us, his face creased with concern. Sophie and Marcel hovered nearby, along with the rest of the staff They all wore the same expression.

I could see it in their eyes, even through my tears. I’d arrived in Paris barely forty–eight hours ago That’t dept. Hadn’t eaten properly. The restaurant was only just emerging from crisis, still walking on eggshells, still fragile

And now I was leaving again.

“Madame….” Pierre started, then stopped. What could he say?

They understood that it was my son. But Maison Cynclair was barely standing. The accusations had been dropped, yes, be the damage to our reputation was still raw. We needed to rebuild trust with our customers, our suppliers, the media. We needed stability.

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