The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 81: The Wake

The ride home was silent. Too silent. The weight of Mara’s heartbreak filled the car like an unbearable storm cloud, suffocating and unrelenting.

She sat in the back seat between Steve and Stefan, her hands trembling in her lap, her lips pressed together so tightly they were almost white. She refused to cry in front of Celeb, who sat in the passenger seat, stiff and quiet, his guilt carving into him like a blade.

But the moment they reached the Shepherd mansion and the door closed behind them Mara broke down.

A sharp, gut-wrenching sob tore from her chest as she collapsed onto the couch, her whole body shaking.

Stefan immediately wrapped his arms around her, his grip firm, grounding. "Shh, Stef," he murmured. "He’s not worth this. He’s not worth your tears."

But it only made her cry harder.

Steve knelt in front of her, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks, his own eyes dark with barely contained fury. "I swear to you, Stef, if I could take this pain away, I would." His voice was thick with emotion, his anger at Ethan barely contained.

Mara hiccupped through her sobs, her fingers clutching onto Stefan’s shirt like he was her last tether to reality. "I—I loved him, Steve," she whispered, voice broken. "I trusted him... And he didn’t—he didn’t even trust me. He believed them. He believed her."

Her words sent a sharp sting through her brothers’ hearts.

Steve clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Then he never deserved you."

Stefan tightened his arms around her. "You gave him everything, and he threw it away." His voice was steel, unwavering. "He’s a fool."

Mara buried her face in his shoulder, another sob shaking her frame. And all Steve and Stefan could do was hold her. Hold her as she cried out the pieces of her shattered heart. Hold her as the pain consumed her, as the betrayal suffocated her.

Hold her because they were the only ones who would never, ever, leave her.

And as for Celeb...

He stood in the corner of the room, watching.

Silent. Unmoving. Because deep down, he knew this was his fault. He had wanted Mara. Had loved her so much it hurt. And now? She was hurting because of him.

And for the first time in his life... Celeb didn’t have a single thing to say, he turned to leave without a word, not that his presence was important so no one even noticed he was gone.

As if Mara’s heartbreak wasn’t enough, the night came crashing down with another devastating blow.

The phone rang, cutting through the heavy silence of the Shepherd mansion. Steve, still holding Mara close, reluctantly picked it up.

"Hello?" His voice was cold, his patience nonexistent.

Uncle Philip’s voice slithered through the receiver like poison. "Steve, I thought you should know... your grandfather was found dead in his apartment abroad."

The room went still.

Mara’s sobs quieted, her fingers tightening around Stefan’s arm. Stefan, who had been softly rubbing her back, froze mid-motion.

Steve’s grip on the phone turned to steel. "What?" His voice was dangerously low.

Philip sighed, feigning regret. "The old man had a heart attack in bed with a... much younger woman. The situation is embarrassing. We can’t afford a scandal, so I’ve arranged for his burial tonight."

The silence that followed was deadly.

Steve’s blood boiled. His fingers twitched with the overwhelming urge to destroy something.

Because he knew. They all knew. Their grandfather did not die of a heart attack.

This wasn’t some accident, some humiliating tale of an old man dying in pleasure.

This was murder.

Stefan stood, his jaw clenched so tight it could shatter. "We need an autopsy."

"Absolutely not," Philip snapped, his smooth tone turning sharp. "We won’t be dragging his name through the mud. Do you want the media to have a field day? A respected billionaire, dead with a girl half his age?" He scoffed. "It would destroy his reputation. Let him rest in peace."

"Rest in peace?" Steve repeated, his voice ice-cold. His entire body was shaking with rage. "You want to talk about peace?"

Philip ignored him. "The burial is happening tonight. Be there." The line went dead.

For a moment, nobody spoke. The tension was suffocating.

Then Steve roared, throwing his phone against the wall. The impact sent shards flying, but it didn’t ease the fury pounding in his veins.

"That bastard killed him," Stefan said darkly, his fists clenched.

Mara, still trembling from her earlier breakdown, wiped her tears, her eyes burning with fury. "And now he wants to cover it up."

Steve inhaled sharply, struggling to contain himself. His grandfather had been the only person to ever challenge Philip. The only person strong enough to stop him. And now he was gone.

Murdered.

And they were supposed to stand by and do nothing?

Philip was going to pay sooner or later

Steve turned to Mara, pulling her up gently. "You need to get dressed."

Mara blinked. "What?"

"We’re going to the wake." His voice was steady, but his eyes burned with vengeance.

Stefan nodded. "If Philip thinks we’re going to let this slide, he’s dead wrong."

Mara took a shaky breath. Just hours ago, she had been crying over Ethan. Now, she was being thrown into a deeper storm. She straightened her shoulders. Fine.

The wake was meant to be a quiet affair quick, discreet, and swept under the rug before the media could sink its teeth into the scandal.

The dimly lit funeral hall was filled with murmurs. High-profile guests attended, most unaware of the truth behind the old man’s sudden death. Philip stood at the front, dressed in a perfect black suit, wearing the face of a grieving son but Steve knew better.

The moment Steve, Stefan, and Mara walked in, all eyes turned to them. The air in the room changed. Thickened.

Philip greeted them with a fake, tight-lipped smile. "Ah, I’m glad you could make it,"

CRASH!

The glass of whiskey in Steve’s hand shattered against the floor.

The entire room fell silent. Steve stepped forward, his blue eyes burning like ice-cold fire. "This is a joke." Philip’s smile didn’t waver. "Excuse me?"

Steve turned to the crowd, his voice loud, unwavering. "A man who built an empire, a man who carried the Shepherd name with honor, is being buried tonight like some shameful secret." His gaze snapped back to Philip. "Because you don’t want the truth coming out."

A murmur rippled through the guests. People shifted uncomfortably.

Philip’s jaw tightened. "Watch your tone, Steve."

But Steve wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a lethal whisper only Philip could hear. "You think you’ve won? You think burying him in the middle of the night erases what you’ve done?" Steve smirked darkly. "You forget who you’re dealing with."

Philip’s face twitched. He opened his mouth to respond, but Steve had already turned away.

"No one is leaving."

The authority in his voice made even the most powerful guests pause.

Mara and Stefan exchanged glances. They knew Steve had something planned, but even they weren’t prepared for what came next.

Steve reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He tapped the screen, and suddenly—

The funeral hall filled with sound.

A recording.

A recorded phone call.

Philip’s voice was cold, irritated.

"Make sure it looks like a heart attack. I don’t want any questions."

Gasps erupted in the crowd as they watched Philp pull the trigger killing his own father.

Philip’s face drained of color. "You—"

Steve didn’t give him a chance to speak.

He turned to the guests, his voice booming. "This man murdered his own father and his brother as well!"

The room exploded into chaos.

Philip’s allies scrambled to save face. Reporters, who had been paid to stay quiet, were suddenly taking notes, recording every second. Steve smirked. Checkmate.

Mara sniffs as her gaze lands on her grandfather making Steve jot from his imagination. He had imagined causing a scene, calling Philip out in front of everyone, and making the world hear his crimes.

He imagined smashing his glass to the floor, turning the wake into a war zone, and telling the world of all his crimes. He imagined the look of shock, the gasps, the way Philip’s carefully crafted mask of grief would crack under the weight of his own sins.

But that was just a fantasy. Because Steve wasn’t going to let his emotions cost him the war.

"Yes uncle, we couldn’t miss it," Steve said holding on to Mara.

The burial was cold. Not because of the weather, but because of the silence. No one said much. No one had to.

Steve, Stefan, and Mara stood side by side, dressed in black, their expressions inconsolable. The funeral was just as Philip had planned quick, quiet, and swept under the rug like an inconvenient mistake.

But if Philip thought they were just going to stand there, mourning like obedient pawns while he got away with murder he was dead wrong.

Steve’s fingers twitched at his side as he watched the coffin lower into the ground, he kept his hands in his pockets, his face blank, his mind working a thousand steps ahead.

They were going to destroy Philip but not tonight. Not when the evidence they had was still weak. Not when Philip had more power than them for now.

So, Steve remained quiet, only giving Philip a single, knowing look. A promise. Philip smirked at him, thinking he had won. Steve smirked back because he knew something Philip didn’t.