All Chapters of The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return: Chapter 301 - Chapter 310

Chapter 301 Ethan's POV I woke up slowly, consciousness creeping in through layers of exhausted sleep. My body felt heavy, my muscles aching in that pleasant way that comes from finally getting real rest after days of tension and stress. The bed was softer than the one I'd had at Gavin's farm, the blanket warmer, and for a brief, blissful moment I forgot where I was or how I'd gotten there. Then I opened my eyes. And nearly had a heart attack. Carmen was standing right beside the bed, leaning over me with her face just a few feet from mine, wearing the biggest, most enthusiastic smile I'd ever seen on another human being. "JESUS!" I yelped, scrambling backward so violently that I actually fell out of the bed, landing on the floor with a painful thud that knocked the wind out of me. Carmen burst into laughter—full, genuine laughter that made her entire body shake, her hand going to her chest like she couldn't contain her amusement. "Lo siento, lo siento," she managed between l

Chapter 303 Cynthia's POV I left the Laurent mansion earlier than usual that morning, hoping to be at the restaurant when Julian arrived home later. I wanted to be there for him when he faced Nathaniel and our mother. Wanted to provide whatever support I could during what was bound to be one of the most difficult conversations of his life. But I also needed the distraction. Needed something to do with my hands and my mind besides obsessively checking my phone for updates about Pascal or worrying about Ethan or replaying my fight with Nathaniel over and over. The restaurant had become my sanctuary over the past few months—the one place where I could focus on something concrete and controllable. Flavors, techniques, presentation. Things that made sense. Things I could actually manage. When I arrived, I was surprised to find the lights already on and the door unlocked. My staff didn't usually arrive this early. I pushed through the entrance, calling out, "Hello?" And there, sit

Chapter 305 Bryan's POV That bitch! That fucking bitch! My fist connected with the wall of my office—expensive imported drywall that probably cost more per square foot than most people made in a month—and pain exploded through my knuckles. I didn't care. Didn't even register the pain properly because the rage and fear consuming me were so much more overwhelming than any physical hurt. Grace had been caught. The word kept echoing in my mind, bouncing around my skull like a bullet ricocheting. My phone was still in my other hand, the screen lit up with the call I'd just received from the private investigator I'd hired to tail Grace after she picked up the money. The ten million dollars in cash I'd arranged to have waiting for her at the amusement center. The money that was supposed to help her disappear forever, to ensure she'd never be found, never lead the police to Ethan, never compromise my carefully constructed plan. Except I hadn't trusted her. Of course I hadn't trus

Chapter 307 Cynthia's POV The drive to the police station felt like it took forever, even though Nikolai drove faster than he probably should have, weaving through midday traffic with the kind of focused intensity that suggested he understood exactly how important this was. Kevin sat in the passenger seat, constantly checking his phone for updates from Nathaniel, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. I sat in the back, my hands clenched so tightly in my lap that my knuckles had gone white, staring out the window without really seeing anything. Grace has been caught. After five months of nothing, they finally have her. And she's going to tell us where Ethan is. The thought played on repeat in my mind like a mantra, like if I believed it hard enough I could make it true. When we finally pulled into the parking lot of the central police station, I was out of the car before Nikolai had even fully stopped, practically running toward the entrance. Kevin and Nikolai hurried after m

Chapter 309 Ethan's POV Consciousness came rushing back before my body hit the ground. One moment I was falling, darkness closing in, Pascal's fist still burning against my jaw. The next, something inside me roared to life. A surge of strength — primal, desperate, fueled by six months of frustration and fear and the devastating realization of everything I'd just remembered. My hands shot out, catching myself before I hit the pavement, and I launched myself at Pascal with a fury I didn't know I was capable of. We collided hard, both of us crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and rage. Pascal was strong—stronger than I expected, fueled by his own desperation and whatever circumstances had led him to be hiding in these bushes. But I was stronger. My fist connected with Pascal's face—once, twice, feeling bone crunch under my knuckles. He got in his own hits, his knee driving into my ribs where he'd beaten me months ago in that warehouse, pain exploding through my chest.