The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 65: Please wake up, baby

Mara still hadn’t woken up. Machines beeped rhythmically around her, the sterile scent of antiseptics heavy in the air. Her body remained still, bruises dark against her pale skin. Outside, Steve and Stefan spoke to the doctors, their voices low and tense.

Ethan knew this was his only chance.

Dressed in a stolen white coat, a surgical mask obscuring half his face, he slipped past the nurses, his hands clenched into fists inside his pockets. Each step toward her room felt like a countdown to disaster. If he got caught, Steve and Stefan would tear him apart.

Inside, his breath hitched. Seeing Mara so motionless, so fragile, shattered something in him. He shut the door behind him, locking it.

He fell to his knees beside her bed, gripping her cold fingers. "Mara... please," his voice cracked. "I swear—I’ll do whatever you want. Just wake up. Yell at me, hate me, leave me, I don’t care. Just open your eyes."

He pressed his forehead to her hand, his body shaking. "I failed you. I should have protected you, and now..." He choked on his own words, unable to finish.

A noise outside made his blood run cold.

The brothers.

Ethan’s pulse hammered. Shadows moved under the door. A hand gripped the knob. He scrambled to his feet, slipping behind the curtain just as the door creaked open.

Steve and Stefan stepped in, scanning the room.

"I swear I heard something," Steve muttered, eyes narrowing at the locked door.

Stefan exhaled, rubbing his temple. "You’re on edge. Let’s just—"

A movement. Ethan held his breath, pressing himself against the wall, the curtain barely hiding him. One wrong move and it was over.

Steve stepped forward, inches away from pulling the curtain back. Ethan braced for impact. But then, Stefan’s voice wavered. "The baby has to be okay, Steve... she’ll be devastated if something happens."

Steve sighed heavily, rubbing a hand down his face. "Even if Ethan is a cheater, she’d still want this baby."

Stefan swallowed hard, his eyes misting over. "I still remember when she was a baby herself. We never let her out of our sight. She was so small, so fragile."

Steve let out a broken chuckle. "Remember when she wouldn’t sleep unless one of us was in the room?"

Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. His heartbeat thundered. His mind spun as realization struck him like a tidal wave.

Mara... his Mara... was the lost daughter of the Shepherd family.

And she was indeed carrying his child. It wasn’t in his head. He hadn’t imagined it.

His fingers curled into fists. He had the truth now.

Steve exhaled. "We should take her home. We have an entire medical unit in the mansion—she’ll be safer there."

Stefan nodded, his resolve strengthening. "We won’t let her get hurt again." Stefan and Steve left to make the preparations to take Mara home.

Ethan barely held back a gasp. Everything had changed. And now, he had to fight to keep his wife and child. Once the room was clear, Ethan sneaked out, not after staring at his wife one last time.

Ethan had unfinished business. The man responsible for putting Mara in the hospital was still out there, and while Ethan couldn’t betray his client’s confidentiality, he wasn’t about to let the man walk free. Mara and their unborn baby had been in danger, and for that, someone had to pay.

Determined, Ethan made his way to the police station, his jaw tight with anger. The so-called assailant sat in an interrogation room, arms crossed, eyes vacant. When Ethan walked in, the man barely acknowledged him.

"You know why I’m here," Ethan said, his voice calm but laced with steel.

The man scoffed. "Like I told the cops, it was just a robbery gone wrong."

Ethan leaned forward, his presence suffocating. "You and I both know that’s a lie."

Silence.

"Tell me who sent you," Ethan pressed.

The man shook his head. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Ethan exhaled sharply, suppressing his frustration. He knew he wouldn’t get anything here. But there were other ways to get to the truth.

His next stop was the Bennett family estate. They had every reason to despise him, and they did. The moment he stepped inside, the air turned ice-cold.

"You have some nerve showing up here," Mr. Bennett’s eldest son, Andrews, spat. "Because of you, our father—"

"I know," Ethan interrupted. "I know you blame me, and I don’t expect forgiveness. But I need you to listen."

Mrs. Bennett sat stiffly in her chair, her eyes red-rimmed. "Why should we?"

Ethan took a deep breath. "Because I know who’s really responsible for your father’s death. And I want to take him down."

That got their attention.

As Ethan laid out the truth, the hostility in the room slowly shifted. The Bennetts listened, their grief turning into something sharper—something that mirrored Ethan’s own thirst for justice. When he finally finished, they exchanged glances before Andrews spoke again.

"What do you need from us?"

Together, they devised a plan. The first step: exposing Mr. Lackman.

Ethan tracked down Lackman’s assistant, a nervous man who had spent too long in the shadows of corruption. With the right pressure, he cracked. Live on the internet, the assistant confessed everything—the bribery, the cover-ups, and the worst of all, how they had stood by and watched Mr. Bennett die of a heart attack, withholding his medication to ensure he didn’t survive.

The video spread like wildfire.

When Mr. Lackman saw it, his fury was instantaneous. He scrambled to flee, barking orders at his staff, demanding his private jet be prepared. But it was too late. The police arrived before he could set foot outside his mansion.

As he was dragged out in handcuffs, Mr. Bennett’s daughter stood nearby, tears streaming down her face. Justice was finally being served.

Lackman thrashed against his captors. "I demand you make this go away! I’ve paid you billions for your services!"

Ethan stepped forward, calm and composed. "Not this time." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I won the case you hired me for. Now? You’re on your own."

Lackman’s eyes widened in horror. "You can’t do this to me!"

Ethan smirked. "No one messes with my wife."

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Lackman to face the consequences of his sins.

__

In a panthouse abroad.

The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with the lingering scent of intimacy. Stanley lay on the bed, his chest rising and falling slowly as he stared at the ceiling, his mind adrift. Beside him, the woman, his lover Rhina turned onto her side, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm. She smiled softly, her eyes searching his face for something deeper, something more, they had great chemistry and were fire when it came to sex, even after the 10 rounds, she felt it wasn’t enough.

But Stanley’s thoughts were already elsewhere, his usual calm demeanor masking the restlessness beneath.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the quiet. Stanley reached for it, his brow furrowing as he read the message from Stanford: Stefania’s been in an accident. She’s in the hospital. His heart skipped a beat, and he sat up abruptly, the sheets pooling around his waist.

Rhina propped herself up, concern flickering in her eyes. "What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with worry.

Stanley hesitated, his mind racing. "I have to go," he said finally, his tone firm but distant. "It’s my sister. She’s been hurt."

Rhina’s expression shifted, a mix of surprise and disappointment. "Go? But you said you’d stay for the month. We had plans..."

Stanley stood, pulling on his clothes with quick, efficient movements. "I know," he said, not meeting her eyes. "But this is family. I can’t stay."

Rhina sat up straighter, her voice rising slightly. "Then take me with you. Let me meet your family. Let me be part of your life, Stanley. We’ve been seeing each other for years—don’t you think it’s time?"

Stanley paused, his hands stilling on the buttons of his shirt. He turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Rhina," he said gently, "we’ve been casual. I thought you understood that. I’m happy with the way things are or were. I’m not looking for more."

Her face fell, the hope in her eyes dimming. "Casual, with you crawling into my bed each time you are here on business," she repeated, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. "Is that all this was to you?"

Stanley didn’t answer immediately. He finished dressing, then walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I’m sorry," he said quietly. "But I have to go."Rhina looked away, her shoulders slumping. "You’re just going to leave? Just like that?"

Stanley hesitated, then nodded. "I have to." He grabbed his bag and headed for the door, leaving Rhina sitting alone on the bed, the weight of his words settling heavily between them. As the door clicked shut behind him, she buried her face in her hands, the silence of the room swallowing her quiet tears.