All Chapters of The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return: Chapter 291 - Chapter 300

Chapter 292 Ethan's POV I barely noticed when the light started fading. Didn't register the sun moving across the sky, didn't feel the temperature dropping as evening approached. All I could see was her face. Cynthia’s face. The memory had ignited something in my brain — not everything, not a flood of returned memories like I desperately wished for—but enough. Enough to remember the curve of her jaw, the exact shade of her eyes, the way her blonde hair fell just to her shoulders. I needed to get it down on paper before it faded. Before the details blurred back into the fog that had consumed the last six months of my life. I'd found paper in Prisca's room and a pencil, and I'd started drawing. Over and over. Sketch after sketch. The first one was wrong — her eyes weren't quite right, too wide, too round. The second was closer but her nose was off, too sharp. The third was better. The fourth is even more so. I kept going, my hand moving frantically across the page, erasi

Chapter 294 Cynthia's POV Amber had finally fallen asleep. After all the tears, after all the promises I'd made that I desperately hoped I could keep, after holding him close and feeling his small body shake with sobs, he'd exhausted himself into sleep. I'd stayed with him for a while longer, watching his chest rise and fall, his face peaceful in a way it so rarely was when he was awake. I'm going to fix this, I'd promised silently, brushing his hair back from his forehead. I'm going to bring your father home. Finally, I'd slipped out of his room, closing the door quietly behind me. Helen had been in the hallway, her expression sympathetic. "He's been asking about Ethan more lately," she'd said softly. "I think seeing the news coverage... it's making it harder for him to pretend everything's okay." "I know," I'd said. "But we're close now. The police have real leads. We're going to find him." Helen had nodded, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. The same doubt everyone s

Chapter 296 Cynthia's POV Nathaniel's face hardened, his jaw setting in that stubborn way that meant he'd already made up his mind and nothing I said would change it. "I'm going to tell Mom," he said firmly. "She needs to know what Julian is doing. What he's become." "What he's become?" I repeated, my voice rising. "Nathaniel, he hasn't become anything. He's always been gay. This isn't something that happened to him. This is who he is." "It's wrong," Nathaniel said, his voice tight with conviction. "It's ungodly. It goes against everything we were raised to believe, everything our family stands for." "Everything you believe," I shot back. "Not everyone in this family shares your rigid, judgmental view of the world." Nathaniel stepped closer, his expression a mixture of anger and something that looked almost like desperation. "Julian needs to come back to his senses," he said. "He needs to understand that this... this lifestyle he's chosen is unacceptable. That he's putting the

Chapter 298 Ethan's POV I sat on the side of the road, my back against a fence post, staring at the drawing in my hands. Cynthia's face looked back at me from the crumpled paper, her eyes seeming to ask a question I couldn't answer. What now? I had no idea. The police wouldn't help. Gavin had given me an ultimatum. And I had nowhere to go, no resources, no plan beyond this desperate need to find a woman I could barely remember. Tears blurred my vision, making the drawing swim in front of me. I failed. Failed to convince the police to help. Failed to make anyone believe me. Failed to do anything except prove that I was exactly as helpless and lost as I'd been six months ago when Gavin first found me. The first drops of rain started falling. Soft at first, then harder, until it was coming down in sheets, soaking through my clothes, plastering my hair to my forehead. I looked down at the drawing, watching in horror as the paper started to darken with moisture, the pencil line

Chapter 300 Cynthia's POV I woke up feeling like someone had wrung me out and left me to dry. Every muscle in my body ached with exhaustion that had nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do with emotional depletion. Yesterday had been... too much. The lead on Pascal that had sent my hopes soaring. Bryan's strange, withdrawn reaction when I'd told him the news. Nikolai's insistence on taking me out, the expensive necklace I'd refused, the uncomfortable weight of his expectations pressing down on me. And then Nathaniel. The fight we'd had about Julian replayed in my mind, making my stomach clench with guilt and residual anger. The things I'd said. The way I'd challenged him. The look on his face when I'd walked out. I'd meant every word. But that didn't make it hurt any less. I rolled over in bed, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. Six-thirty in the morning. Too early to be awake, but my brain was already racing, refusing to let me fall back asleep.