The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 175: I have to go

"Ethan, who was it?" Valerie asked, her voice laced with concern.

He didn’t answer.

"I need to go," he muttered, almost to himself.

Valerie stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Ethan, who was it? Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Everything’s fine." The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. "I’ll make this call in my study."

The phone was still in his hand, warm from the call. He wasn’t even sure if the caller was still on the line. Maybe they’d hung up. Maybe they were still listening. Either way, he needed privacy. Space. Somewhere to think. Somewhere to feel.

He walked briskly to his office, shutting the door behind him with the weight of a man about to discuss matters of national security. The click of the latch echoed through the silence.

His heart thudded.

He stared at the phone in his hand, thumb hovering over the screen. A part of him wanted to block the number, to erase it and every memory tied to it. He wanted to scream, "Leave me alone. You’re the biggest mistake of my life."

But he didn’t.

Because something in her voice, fragile, haunted, familiar, had cut through his resolve like a blade through silk.

He sank into the leather chair, jaw clenched, and finally brought the phone to his ear.

"...Hello?"

"Hello? Hello... Maria-Isabel, is that you? Hello, Maria?" Ethan asked urgently, but the line had already gone dead.

He stared at the phone for a beat, then tried calling back. It rang once, twice, and then someone answered.

"This is Los Vinania Prison," the cold voice on the other end said. "The prisoner has already been returned to her cell."

The call ended before Ethan could say a word.

He blinked, stunned. "What the hell, Maria?" he muttered to himself. Prison? Since when?

No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the weight pressed down on him. Something about her voice... broken, desperate... it wouldn’t let him rest.

He exhaled sharply and picked up his phone again. He needed someone to talk to. Someone who knew Maria. Someone who, despite everything, might still care.

He called Mara.

"Mara," he said softly when she answered.

"If you’re calling about the twins, they’re fine," Mara snapped. "I swear to God, Ethan, if this is another stunt to demand full custody or even suggest splitting them, I will make your life hell. I will fight you tooth and nail."

He winced.

"Mara, I’m sorry. About earlier. It wasn’t what it looked like. I just—" his voice cracked, "I just wanted us to be a family again. But listen—"

Click. The call ended.

Ethan stared at the screen. The silence after her voice was deafening.

"Oh, Mara..." he whispered, running a hand through his hair. "What can I do to fix this?"

If lost had a face, he was looking at it in the mirror. His mistakes were haunting him, and he was paying the price in full.

He sank back onto the couch, swallowed the lump in his throat, and made one more call, this time to Steph.

"Steph... I need you to make some enquiries. About Maria-Isabel. She’s in trouble. Prison. I don’t want to get involved personally. Just... find a lawyer. Have someone help her. Quietly."

Steph didn’t ask questions. He never did.

Ethan leaned back, phone resting on his chest, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The walls were closing in, but somehow, it was the silence between words that crushed him most.

–

Mara was still sitting beside the twins’ crib, gently stroking little Andrew’s back as her brother Audrey slept peacefully. The room was dim, the soft hum of the lullaby playing on repeat like a comfort she couldn’t part with.

"You should rest, ma’am," the nanny said gently as she stepped in.

Mara offered a small, tired smile. "It’s fine. I’m here."

"Please," the nanny insisted with quiet urgency. "Your brothers are standing outside. They won’t sleep if you don’t."

Mara exhaled, her shoulders slumping. Of course they were. Overprotective as always, especially now.

"Fine," she said softly, her eyes still on her babies. "But tomorrow, have their cribs moved to my room. I want them close."

"Yes, ma’am."

Mara leaned down and gave each child one last kiss on their tiny foreheads, her lips lingering as if to whisper a silent promise: Mommy’s right here. Always.

She straightened, took a deep breath, and walked out, leaving the quiet room behind.

Outside, her brothers—Steve, Stanley, Stefan, and Stanford stood tall.

"Happy now?" she said with a faint smirk, though her eyes shimmered with unspoken emotion.

Stanley nodded. "We’ll be happier when you stop pretending you’re made of steel."

Mara didn’t answer. She just walked past them, barefoot and silent.

"Stef," Rafael said the moment he saw her step out of the nursery. His voice was soft, full of the kind of tenderness only someone who truly understood her could offer. "Thank you. For today."

"Always," she replied, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

He gave a small nod, glancing at the time. It was late, too late, but duty never waited, and the case was kind of special to him.

"I should go," he said. But just as he turned, her voice stopped him.

"Hey, Rafael... why don’t you stay?"

There was a beat of silence between them.

Rafael looked at her, the question lingering in his eyes. "I wish I could. But I just got a call from Los Vinania... from my organization. There’s a woman charged with murder. My friend at the prison called me directly."

He sighed. "I don’t want to leave you, not now. But after hearing her story... I feel like I have to help."

"Los Vinania is far," Mara said quietly, her heart sinking. She hated how much she understood.

He was leaving again.

"Will you miss me?" he asked, attempting a half-smile.

"Very much," she replied, and before she could stop herself, she stepped into his arms and hugged him tightly.

It caught him off guard. For a moment, he didn’t move, then his arms came around her, fiercely protective, like she was all that mattered in the world.

Because she was.

This...this messy, chaotic life with the twins, the custody war, the shadows of her past, Rafael had never asked her to choose. He had simply shown up, again and again. And maybe this was his way of helping her decide... without pressure, without words.

Just love.

"You’ll come back for me, right?" Mara whispered, her voice trembling now.

He looked down at her, surprised to find tears slipping down her cheeks—quiet, unguarded tears.

Not over, Ethan. Not over the child she once lost. Not from wounds of the past. But over him.