The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 243: The Velvet box

Rafael had spent weeks designing the ring—something simple yet elegant, something that reminded him of Mara’s strength and softness all at once. He wanted it to be perfect because she was perfect. Even in her flaws. Even in her sorrow. Especially in her courage.

At the mall, he strode into the jewelry store, still smiling like a boy in love. The sales attendant looked up, recognizing him instantly.

"You’re here!" she said with a warm smile, already reaching beneath the glass counter. "I’ve been waiting to show you. It’s ready."

She placed a small velvet box in front of him. Rafael opened it slowly, reverently, and the moment his eyes landed on the ring, his smile deepened.

A round-cut diamond rested in a delicate vine-like band, wrapped in gold and flanked by two small emeralds—her birthstone. Classic, unique, timeless. Just like Mara.

"It’s perfect," he said softly. The saleswoman tilted her head. "She must be really special."

Rafael didn’t hesitate. "She is. Very." Something about the moment caught him off guard.

A young couple walked past him, barely more than teenagers, hands intertwined, sharing a milkshake like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them. The girl tossed her head back in laughter, and the boy looked at her like she hung the stars.

Refael froze.

Something in his chest tightened, then softened. It was the kind of love people used to talk about in old songs. The kind he never believed he’d find... until Mara.

His mind drifted—drifted in the way it always did when her name came to him, uninvited yet always welcome.

Suddenly, he was no longer in the mall.

The late afternoon sun spilled gold across the garden, weaving through the leaves of the olive trees that surrounded the Shepherd estate. A soft breeze carried the scent of jasmine and fresh roses—the very flowers Mara had planted with her mother long ago. The atmosphere was peaceful, almost sacred, as if time itself was holding its breath.

Refael stood tall, nervous, and radiant in a white linen shirt that caught the light like silk. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as he faced not just the woman he loved, but the fortress of her brothers behind her—each one protective, watchful, and waiting.

But Mara... she stood there barefoot on the grass, wearing a simple pale blue dress that danced around her ankles. Her long hair cascaded down her back like a dark river. Her eyes locked with Refael’s, shimmering with emotion, a storm of disbelief and love swirling behind them.

He took a deep breath, reached into his pocket, and dropped to one knee.

"Stefania," his voice was soft, yet it carried through the quiet air. "You were the one light I never saw coming. Through every dark corner of my life, it was your name that echoed, even when I didn’t know it yet. I’ve loved you with every breath since the moment I knew who you were to me. And I want to love you for the rest of my life."

Her lips parted, trembling. Her brothers, silent pillars behind her, didn’t move. Time stood still.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, holding out the ring, the one he carefully let them design for Mara, simple but elegant, just like Mara.

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and then she nodded once, then again, more eagerly. "Yes," she whispered. Then louder, steadier: "Yes. Yes!"

Refael stood and swept her into his arms, burying his face in her hair as the brothers let out a collective breath. Laughter broke the silence. Applause followed, and even a few wet eyes.

Two weeks later, the world watched as they became husband and wife.

The wedding was nothing short of a fairytale. Held in the coastal vineyard Mara had always dreamt of, the ceremony was surrounded by flowering arches and twinkling lights strung like stars. The aisle was lined with soft white petals, and Mara walked down it with a grace that stole the breath of every guest. Her gown was crafted in delicate lace, hugging her like it was made by the angels themselves.

Refael, waiting at the altar, couldn’t stop smiling—his eyes never left her.

Their vows were whispered with trembling voices and fierce devotion. When the officiant declared them husband and wife, Refael kissed her like it was the first and last moment they’d ever have.

The reception was a blur of candlelight, laughter, and music that carried into the early hours. Mara danced barefoot again, spinning in Refael’s arms, her head tilted back in joy. Even Ethan, quiet in a navy-blue suit, came forward. His eyes held pain and healing all at once as he extended a hand.

"Congratulations," he said. "You deserve this happiness."

Refael, without hesitation, shook his hand. Mara held Ethan’s gaze for a moment, not with bitterness, but peace. It was closure.

That night, in the soft sanctuary of their honeymoon suite, Refael carried her across the threshold like a man holding something sacred. The room was bathed in warm candlelight, the bed strewn with rose petals and silk. He undressed her slowly, reverently, his fingers memorizing every inch of her skin. They made love not in haste, but in devotion—soft touches, shared breaths, laughter between kisses. The night passed in slow waves, an endless melody of passion and promise.

"I love you," he murmured again and again, as if the words would keep her close forever.

"I’m yours," she whispered back, again and again, wrapped in his arms.

And then the seasons changed.

Morning sunlight began to taste different—sweeter, warmer. Mara’s laughter carried with it a new softness. The day she found out she was pregnant, Refael knelt again, this time before the gentle curve of her belly, and pressed his lips to her skin.

"Little Rafael," he whispered. "You’re already my everything." Mara watched him, her hands in his hair, her heart bursting with joy.

A voice pulled him back to the present.

"Sir, are you okay?" the sales girl asked politely. Refael blinked. The young couple was gone now, lost somewhere in the crowd. But the ache in his chest lingered, the warmth, too. A dream he hadn’t lived... yet.

He smiled faintly. "I am just happy. Thank you." Box in hand, he walked out of the store still grinning, rehearsing every word of the proposal in his head. Should he say something poetic? Something simple and raw? Should he kneel at home? Or take her somewhere that mattered?

He couldn’t decide, but he knew one thing—he was ready. His heart swelled with hope, with love, with the thought that Mara would finally be his forever.

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