The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 311

Chapter 311

Ethan's POV

The police station was absolute chaos.

The moment we'd pulled up with Pascal tied up in the trunk, officers had swarmed the car, asking rapid-fire questions, demanding explanations, radioing for backup.

Miguel and Carmen had tried their best to explain in broken English — how they'd found me, how we'd been stopped at a checkpoint, how Pascal had attacked us and we'd fought back.

But the story was complicated and confusing, and the officers kept interrupting with more questions.

Then the press had somehow gotten wind of what was happening.

Cameras. Microphones. Reporters shouting questions over each other.

"Is that Pascal Walker?"

"Who are these people?"

"Where has he been for five months?"

"Wait, you look like Ethan Walker?"

The crowd pressed in from all sides, suffocating, overwhelming.

I tried to answer, tried to explain that I was Ethan Walker, that I'd been missing, that I needed to find my wife.

But no one was listening.

Too many voices. Too much noise. Too much chaos.

All I wanted was to get out of there.

To go to the Laurent mansion where I assumed Cynthia would be with her brothers and family.

To finally see her and Amber after six months of being lost.

During the drive to Missford, after we'd captured Pascal, my memories had continued flooding back.

The warehouse. The kidnapping. Grace's betrayal. The years before that—my marriage to Cynthia, the struggles we'd had, the distance that had grown between us.

Amber's birth. The joy and terror of becoming a father.

All of it came rushing back, painting a complete picture of who I was and what I'd lost.

I stood in the middle of the police station lobby, surrounded by chaos, feeling claustrophobic and trapped.

And then I felt the pull. My instincts screaming at me to turn, like a thread connecting me to someone nearby.

I turned, and there she was.

Cynthia.

Standing maybe twenty feet away, surrounded by her own cluster of people — her brothers, I recognized Kevin and Nathaniel from my recovered memories.

And Nikolai Cross.

Standing just behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders in what looked like a comforting gesture.

My entire body went rigid.

Something primal and possessive exploded in my chest—jealousy so fierce it nearly knocked the breath out of me.

Get your hands off my wife.

The thought was immediate and irrational and overwhelming.

Nikolai's eyes met mine across the crowded lobby.

Shock registered on his face—genuine, complete shock.

His hands froze on Cynthia's shoulders.

For a moment, she remained completely rigid and then she broke.

Her entire body seemed to collapse inward, all the strength and control she'd been holding onto for five months crumbling at once.

A sob tore out of her—raw and broken and filled with so much pain and relief it made my chest ache.

Her hands fisted in my shirt, gripping so tightly I felt the fabric tear slightly.

And she clung to me like I was the only solid thing in a world that had been spinning out of control.

"You're alive," she sobbed against my chest. "You're alive. You're alive."

She kept repeating it, over and over, like she needed to say it out loud to make it real.

"I'm here," I said, my own voice shaking, my own tears falling into her hair. "I'm here, Cynthia. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry it took so long to find my way back to you."

"Ethan...," she choked out between sobs. "I thought I'd lost you forever. I thought…"

Her voice broke completely.

"I know," I said, holding her tighter. "I know. But I'm here now. I'm here and I'm not leaving. Never again. I promise."

She pulled back just enough to look up at me, her hands coming up to cup my face, her eyes scanning every bruise and cut like she was cataloging the damage.

I pulled her back into my arms, burying my face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her that I'd forgotten but now recognized as home.

Around us, the chaos continued.

Officers trying to restore order.

Reporters still shouting questions.

Kevin and Nathaniel hovering nearby, clearly wanting to come closer but giving us this moment.

Nikolai standing a few feet away, his expression complicated — happy for Cynthia but clearly struggling with his own feelings.