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#19

Author: Grace Grandi
last update Last Updated: 2025-10-27 09:05:40

Chapter 19

Cynthia's POV

My legs wobbled, the panic attack consuming me, and I knew I was giving him exactly what he wanted, vulnerability.

I was going to die here. In front of two hundred people. Destroyed by ghosts from my past who'd decided I didn't deserve to exist or be happy.

Then I felt a coat. Warm fabric settling around my shoulders like armor.

"I've got you."

Kevin's voice cut through the panic like a lifeline. His arm was around me, steady and immovable, and suddenly I wasn't drowning alone. I almost forgot I have knights in shiny amour.

"Security," he called out, his tone shifting from protective to lethal in a single word. "Remove that man from the building. Now."

Marcus had gone pale. For a moment, he'd been untouchable…the architect of my humiliation. Now he was facing three men in dark suits who moved with the efficiency of people trained in precisely this scenario.

"This is…" Marcus started to protest, but the bodyguards were already surrounding him, their presence a
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    Chapter 115 Ethan's POV I was enraged. Absolutely, completely enraged in a way I hadn't felt in years. My blood was boiling, my vision narrowing to a pinpoint focus on the phone in my hand and the woman standing in front of me. How could Bryan, not waste an ounce of time before hitting on Cynthia? It had been what, two days since he'd sat in my study and told me he had feelings for her? Two days since he'd asked for my blessing? And now he was already making plans with her. Already establishing this comfortable, casual rapport. Already inserting himself into her life like he belonged there. And Cynthia had agreed to meet him. Just like that. Without hesitation. Without even mentioning it to me. Not that she owed me an explanation, apparently. I gripped the phone tightly, my knuckles white, my gaze fixed on Cynthia. She was looking at me with that expression I'd come to recognize over the past few weeks, the one that said she didn't owe me an explanation. The one that said I

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    Chapter 112 Ethan's POVI got back from work and Anna was still there with Amber and Hayden.They were waiting for Mrs. Daniels, who was yet to serve dinner. I'd texted her earlier to hold off until I arrived home — I wanted at least one meal with my son, even if it meant sharing the table with Anna. Amber approached me with a warm hug the moment I walked through the dining room door, and so did little Hayden, toddling over on unsteady legs with her arms outstretched."Daddy!" Hayden called, and the word still felt wrong in my ears.Anna didn't spare me a glance, her attention fixed on her phone as she scrolled through something with sharp, aggressive swipes. I honestly didn't care. I expected her to react this way over the fact that I insisted Cynthia picked up Amber instead of her. Mrs. Daniels served dinner—roasted chicken, vegetables, mashed potatoes. Simple, comforting food that Amber loved.We ate in near silence, the only sounds the clinking of silverware against plates and

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    Chapter 111 Cynthia's POV When I got home, I was greeted by a worried Kevin who was pacing in the foyer. "I almost called you," he said the moment I walked through the door, his expression tight with concern. "What happened? Why did you dismiss the security guys?" I set my purse down on the console table and sighed. "I had to drop off Amber at his school and then take him back to the Walker mansion. I really didn't want Amber seeing some men following his mother around and feeling like Mom isn't secure or something. It would've raised questions I'm not ready to answer." Kevin's frown deepened. "Cynthia, those men are there for your protection. Especially after everything with Anna and the restaurant sabotage..." "I know, Kevin. I know." I held up a hand to stop him. "But it was broad daylight, a school pickup. I wasn't in any danger." "You don't know that," Kevin insisted, his protective older brother instincts in full force. "Please don't do it again. At least not withou

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    Chapter 110 Cynthia's POV Amber and I dropped by a restaurant to buy ice cream—a small, family-owned place he insisted made the best chocolate chip in all of Missford. As we sat in a corner booth with our cones, Amber suddenly reached into his backpack and pulled out an envelope. "I have something for you, Mom," he said, his voice taking on that shy quality he had when he was nervous about something. "What is it, sweetheart?" "It's a present. I wanted to give it to you the first time we were supposed to meet, but..." He trailed off, and I felt that familiar stab of guilt. "But you weren't able to make it. So I kept it and I've been waiting for this day to give it to you." He held out the envelope, which had been wrapped carefully with tape, decorated with crayon drawings of what looked like flowers and hearts. My throat tightened with emotion. "Amber, you didn't have to..." "Please don't open it until you get home," he interrupted, pressing it into my hands. "Promise?

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