The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 134: Prison Visit

Vera stood there in an oversized hoodie, arms crossed, eyes shadowed. She had her father’s sharp features but none of his coldness.

"You don’t need to say it," she said as she walked down slowly. "I know what kind of man he is."

Valerie looked at her daughter, guilt swimming in her eyes. "I never wanted you to carry that weight, Vera."

"I already do." Vera sat down, straight-backed and steady. "So don’t keep me out of this. If you’re going to see him, I’m coming too."

Ethan blinked. "You don’t have to do that."

"I do. He’s still my father. And I want him to look me in the eye and see what he lost. What he destroyed. Maybe then he’ll understand that he has no more control."

Valerie hesitated, clearly torn. She had spent years protecting her daughter from that man, his rage, his lies, his darkness. But she also saw the fire in Vera’s eyes, and maybe... she needed to let her face it.

"Fine," Valerie said. "But I’m not letting you out of my sight in that room."

Vera nodded. "Deal." Ethan looked at them both. His family. Touched by Philip in different ways, but not broken. "We go tomorrow," he said quietly. And for the first time in hours, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time:. Determined.

----

The prison was cold, even in daylight.

Ethan walked beside Valerie and Vera through the long corridors, each step echoing off the concrete walls like a warning. The smell of metal and bleach clung to the air, sterile and unforgiving.

Philip Shepherd had been locked away for months now. But somehow... it never felt like he was truly gone. Not with the way he still reached through bars, through shadows, through fear. A guard opened the visitation room. Behind the thick glass, Philip was already waiting.

His eyes lit up when he saw them. "Valerie," he drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Still as fierce as ever, I was happy to know you were still alive."

Valerie didn’t blink. "Cut the act. I will find all your allies and send them to their graves, trust me on that."

"And Ethan," Philip said, turning his attention. "Still trying to clean up messes you helped create?" Ethan’s jaw tightened. "This isn’t about me. It’s about Mara. Leave her alone."

Philip leaned back in his chair, relaxed. Almost amused. "She’s family. I was just saying hello."

"Don’t play games," Valerie snapped. "We know what that message was. A threat." Vera stood quietly between them, her presence like a loaded pause. Then Philip’s gaze landed on her. His smile faltered for just a moment.

"Vera." She didn’t smile back. "I’d like to speak with her," Philip said, voice low. "Alone."

Valerie’s hand shot out instinctively, protective. "No."

"Not happening," Ethan added firmly.

But Vera stepped forward. Calm. Controlled. "It’s okay. I want to talk to him."

"Vera—" Valerie started.

"I want to," she said again, with more weight. "If you’re staying out here, you can still see me through the glass. I’ll be fine. Valerie hated it. Ethan hated it. But they stepped aside, standing behind the two-way mirror as Vera walked in.

Philip watched her sit across from him, his face unreadable now. For the first time, there was no smugness.

Just silence.

"You wanted to talk," Vera said. "So talk."

Philip leaned forward, elbows on the table. "You look like your mother."

"I know."

"But you carry my fire."

"No," Vera said flatly. "I carry my mother’s strength. And her pain. The pain you caused."

He tilted his head, studying her. "You’ve grown sharp. Strong. Impressive."

"I didn’t come for compliments. I came to tell you something." Her voice was steady, icy. "You’ll never get to Mara again. You’ll never touch her, scare her, haunt her."

"Are you so sure of that?"

"I am. Because I’m done pretending you’re some ghost I need to fear after what Victor did to me, you knew, didn’t you? I’m not your daughter by blood. I’m your consequence."

Philip’s face twitched. Just slightly. Vera stood, her chair scraping the floor. "Goodbye, Philip." She turned and walked out, not looking back.

As she stepped out of the room, Valerie rushed to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Ethan stood beside them, silent but visibly proud. "He’s still dangerous," Valerie whispered.

"I know," Vera said. "But he’s alone in there. And we’re not." Ethan looked at her, and for the first time, he saw just how much strength Vera had.

And as the doors shut behind them, so did a part of the past. But Ethan knew better than to think it was over. Not with Philip. Never with Philip.

—-

Prison did strange things to time. For some men, it dulled them. Broke them.

For Philip Shepherd, it sharpened the blade. He sat on his bunk that night, staring at the ceiling, the echo of Vera’s words still cutting through his mind.

"I’m not your daughter by blood. I’m your consequence." He could still see her face. Her defiance. Her pain.

But it wasn’t just what she said—it was what he hadn’t known.

Victor. His right-hand man. His most loyal lieutenant. A whisper from one of his guards had started it. A joke, half-drunk on adrenaline and recklessness.

"Victor got to that girl more than you could imagine." Philip didn’t care, it was something they do for fun until he confirmed it was his own daughter. Until the dates lined up. Until the shame he saw in Vera’s eyes wasn’t just about him, but something darker..

That night, in the prison yard under low orange lights, Philip approached Victor like nothing was wrong. They exchanged small talk. A laugh, even. Then Philip struck. Two sharp jabs to the ribs.

One twisting stab just below the heart. It was over before Victor even knew he was bleeding out. Philip leaned close to his ear, whispering through clenched teeth: "For my daughter. For Vera."

Victor died gurgling on his betrayal. Guards dragged Philip away, his hands red but calm.

In solitary confinement, they asked him why he did it. He just smiled and whispered, "I’m a father now." But the truth haunted him. He had always wanted to be a father.

And now that he was, his daughter hated him. Feared him. Rejected him. And the one person she wanted to protect, Stefania, was protected by everyone but him. Philip stared at the tiny square of sky from his cell and made a vow.. If she wouldn’t let him be a father in her life... he’d be one in his own way.

Dangerous. Twisted. Possessive. And still not done.

—

The morning light filtered through the windows, soft and golden, but the tension in the Shepherd household never truly lifted.

Stanley leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Mara slowly make her way down the hall, one hand on her back, the other cradling her belly.

"I’ve been thinking..." he said gently as she joined him. "Would you consider going out of the country for a while? Just until the baby’s born. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe."

Mara looked at him, her lips pressing into a thoughtful line. "You think it’s come to that?"

Before he could answer, Steve entered, already shaking his head.

"No. She’s not leaving." His tone was calm but firm—final. "Philip’s men are scattered in every corner of the world. We send her away, we lose control. Here, we can protect her."

"I’m standing right here, you know," Mara said softly, raising a brow. "And I trust you. All of you. I’m not going anywhere."

Stanley sighed but nodded. "Alright. Then we make this house a fortress."

And they did.

Steve hired two private nurses and a round-the-clock security team. Guards patrolled the perimeter day and night. The brothers took shifts, each ensuring that someone was always close. Valerie, ever the calm in the storm, visited often, bringing food, laughter, and stacks of foundation documents for Mara to review and sign.

Work came to her now. She was no longer the woman rushing through hallways in high heels and power suits. Now she was home, grounded, wrapped in a cocoon of family and safety.

And Ethan.

He was never far.

Whether it was a craving for strawberry ice cream at midnight or a slow, aching walk through the garden beneath the stars, she never hesitated to call him. He came without question, every time, patient and steady.

They’d walk in silence sometimes, her hand in his, her breath slow and tired.

Other times, she’d laugh at something he said really laugh, and the sound of it would echo like hope across the darkened yard.

Despite everything, Mara felt peace. A fragile kind, maybe, but real.

Her belly was full and heavy now, the baby pressing down. She could barely move without help. The nurses were kind. Her brothers were doting. Ethan was careful with every touch, every word.

"The babies always kick when you are around," she whispered one night as he helped her into bed. He smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. "Because they love me and can’t wait to play ball with their daddy."

But outside, beyond the gates and guards and walls of love, the shadows still shifted.

Philip was still waiting.

Still watching.

And the clock was ticking.