The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 72: The Shepherd Gala

The grand ballroom of the Salvador estate shimmered under the glow of golden chandeliers, the air was filled with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of a string quartet playing a soft, enchanting melody.

The celebration was in place, an event that had gathered the most powerful figures in Salvador.

Business tycoons, ministers of the state, high-ranking officers, and the city’s elite families stood in elegant clusters, engaged in quiet conversations or laughter that rang like silver bells against the marble walls.

The ladies gather to admire and critique each other’s dresses, as if the event were a grand fashion contest meant to display their prestige. Meanwhile, some men proudly showcase their stunning daughters, hoping to spark alliances, while others dive into discussions about business ventures.

This is the very dance of social dynamics, where everyone plays their part in the cycle of networking and reputation-building. And then, the moment that silenced the room.

Mara appeared at the top of the grand staircase.

She was breathtaking. Dressed in a gown that shimmered under the lights gold and ivory threads were woven together like something spun from a dream. The fabric hugged her form in all the right places, walking down in soft, flowing layers that trailed behind her. Her dark curls had been pinned up, with a few loose strands of hairs framing her face, accenting the delicate curve of her jaw and the fire in her eyes.

As she descended, the room stilled. All eyes turned to her, admiration and awe rippling through the crowd. Some whispered behind their hands; others merely watched in silence, taken by her presence.

Somewhere in the corner, amidst the sea of admirers, Celeb Satana lounged with effortless grace, a glass of champagne in his hand. His gaze was sharp, lingering on Mara as if he was undressing her with his eyes. Not far from him, Ethan sat beside his grandfather, the elder man nodding approvingly while Ethan himself remained quiet, his eyes following Mara’s every movement.

Yet beyond the familiar faces, beyond the admiring stares of strangers, there were four pairs of eyes that held something deeper, something purer. Her brothers stood together, watching her with an emotion that needed no words.

Steve, the composed one, had a small, proud smile playing on his lips. Stanley, always sharp and unreadable in public, let a flicker of warmth touch his gaze. Stanford’s eyes gleamed with unmistakable admiration, and Stefan, the youngest but no less protective, looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

Mara felt their love like a shield, a silent but powerful force that steadied her. And as she took the final step down, meeting the sea of powerful men and women before her, she did not falter. She was Stefania Shepherd, and tonight, she owned the room.

The room had already been captivated by Mara’s presence, but the moment Mr. Shepherd Sr. one of the most powerful men in Salvador, raised his hand, a hush fell over the gathering. The chatter softened, glasses were lowered, and all eyes turned to him.

Standing tall in his signature dark suit, his presence commanded respect. His voice, deep and steady, echoed through the grand ballroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before settling on Mara. "It is with great joy that I introduce to you my long-lost granddaughter, Stefania Shepherd."

A collective gasp rippled through the hall, followed almost immediately by an eruption of applause. Murmurs of curiosity and admiration spread among the guests as heads turned to study her with renewed interest. Mara was now publicly acknowledged as a Shepherd, she was no longer just a striking woman in a beautiful dress. She was an heiress. A force to be reckoned with.

Mr. Shepherd extended his arm to her, and Mara, keeping her composure, placed her hand lightly on his. He led her through the sea of guests, stopping before a select few, the most powerful figures in the room. Business magnates, high-ranking ministers, and influential officers all greeted her with polite but measured smiles, their eyes sharp with assessment.

"She will be taking over as the new head of the SS Foundation," her grandfather announced proudly. The statement landed like a thunderclap. If anyone had hoped she would be a mere ornament of the family, those thoughts vanished instantly.

Mara could feel the weight of their gazes, some filled with admiration, others with calculation. Some of these men had spent their lives maneuvering power, and now they looked at her as if she were a piece on their chessboard. A potential ally, a powerful connection to secure.

Almost as if on cue, a few of them stepped forward, each introducing their sons, young men of wealth and status smiling, making small talk, and subtly suggesting potential matches.

Mara smiled politely, acknowledging their words, but deep down, she understood the game. They weren’t just welcoming her; they were trying to secure a place in her future.

Across the room, Ethan watched in silence. His expression held something more than just anger but a hint of jealousy, his fingers tightening around the glass in his hand. There was something dark in his gaze as he took in the sight of men surrounding Mara, vying for her attention. Yet, he remained where he was, his restraint like a storm waiting to break.

And then Celeb walked towards Mara, in his head, he wanted to rescue her from those men, his presence commanding as he placed a hand lightly on the small of her back, a touch so natural, so familiar, that it sent a quiet ripple through the group.

Mara turned slightly, startled, but Celeb merely smiled down at her, his charm dripping like honey. "Now, now," he mused, his voice smooth. "Let’s not overwhelm the lady, gentlemen."

His fingers brushed her arm softly a touch too casual, too intimate.

Across the room, Ethan’s grip on his glass tightened. His jaw clenched. A slow burn of anger settled in his chest, but he held himself together, masking his emotions behind a cool stare.

Celeb, seemingly oblivious or perhaps very much aware leaned in, his voice lowering just slightly. "You look stunning tonight, darling."

Mara held his gaze, her blood boiling. Celeb had always been bold but tonight, with all eyes on her, she held back. And somewhere in the crowd, Ethan watched, his restraint hanging by a thread.

Mara turned slightly, taking a measured breath before facing Celeb. His usual playful smirk was in place, but she knew him too well. Beneath that charm lay something deeper, something possessive.

She met his gaze head-on, her voice soft but firm. "Celeb, I’ve been through a lot, but you need to understand something."

His smirk faltered slightly, just enough for her to see the tension in his jaw.

"You will always be my childhood friend."

The words settled between them like a heavyweight.

Mara continued, her expression unwavering. "Regardless of everything, my heart still belongs to my husband. There is no place for any other man."

Celeb’s eyes darkened. The mask of easy charm cracked for the briefest moment, and something unspoken flickered in his gaze, hurt, anger, something else.

Mara didn’t wait for a response. She turned gracefully, her gown flowing behind her as she walked away, leaving Celeb standing amidst the crowd.

He exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around the glass in his hand. His jaw clenched as his eyes followed her across the room.

Then, something made his grip tighten further.

Mara had stopped just beyond the crowd, in a quiet alcove near the grand windows, she was speaking in hushed tones to Ethan.

Celeb’s eyes burned with frustration as he watched the way Ethan stood close to her, his posture rigid yet protective. Mara’s expression had softened not the guarded politeness she had given Celeb, but something real. Something intimate.

Celeb’s heart pounded with an unfamiliar feeling. He had always known Mara was never truly his, but seeing her now, speaking to Ethan like that, made something inside him snap.

And then, another storm was brewing.

At the entrance of the ballroom, Lucy and her father had arrived.

The moment Lucy stepped in, her sharp eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on Ethan. And Mara. Together.

A cold fury washed over her, her grip tightening on the small clutch in her hands. Her father, beside her, glanced at her reaction with mild amusement. He had warned her before that Ethan was not a man easily owned. But Lucy didn’t care.

Ethan was hers.

And she would do everything to separate Mara from him.

Before she could move, a voice called out, slicing through the air like a blade.

"Miss Shepherd."

Mara turned at the sound of her new title. The realization hit her like a sudden wave.

She was the heiress. The guest of honor. The woman everyone was watching.

All conversations seemed to pause for a moment as eyes turned to her again, this time with renewed intensity.

Mara squared her shoulders, pushing away the weight of emotions from her conversation with Ethan. Tonight, she was Stefania Shepherd. And she would own her place in this world.

Lucy’s entire body went rigid.

Shepherd?

The name echoed in her mind, over and over, like a hammer against a stone. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a brief moment, all she could do was stare.

No. No. This had to be some kind of twisted joke.

That woman, the one she had dismissed as nothing more than a desperate, shameless whore clawing her way into power through men was a Shepherd?

A Shepherd.

Lucy had spent years maneuvering her way into Salvador’s elite circles, ensuring she was always aligned with the most powerful families. And there was no name more powerful than Shepherd. The Shepherds were untouchable their wealth ran deeper than most, and their influence reached far beyond mere business.

And Mara, that woman, was one of them?

Lucy felt something sharp and ugly twist inside her, a burning heat rising in her neck. Her nails dug into the fine leather of her purse, her grip tightening until her knuckles turned white.

This wasn’t just an inconvenience.

This was war.

Ethan had been distant lately, colder. He had brushed off her calls and excused himself from meetings, and all because of her. He was looking at Mara in a way he had never looked at her.

Her blood boiled, her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She had always known Ethan was difficult to control. He was powerful in his own right, a man who couldn’t be swayed by just beauty or charm. But Lucy had believed had been certain that she was the one woman suited for him.

And yet, here was Mara. Not only did she marry Ethan, but she also stood there as an heiress.

Lucy’s jaw tightened, her nails biting into her palm.

This changes nothing. Mara might have a name now, but Lucy had something far stronger a purpose. And she would not let that woman take what was hers.