The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back
Chapter 182: Is him I want

Chapter 182: Is him I want

The sterile light of the visiting room cast a pale glow, illuminating the two unfamiliar faces seated across the table. Maria’s heart sank, the hope she’d clung to dissipating like mist. She had envisioned Ethan’s face, perhaps aged by sorrow, but still familiar. Instead, two strangers awaited her.

Tears welled up as she closed her eyes, allowing the disappointment to wash over her. Of course, he didn’t come. Why would he? She was a ghost from a past he’d likely buried.

"Mrs. Williams Lewis, if you will let me, I would like to represent you free of charge," Rafael said, his voice gentle yet firm.

Maria shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I don’t want a lawyer," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Thank you."

As she turned to leave, the other man extended a business card. "Please wait," he implored. "I was personally sent from Salvador to represent you, Mrs. Williams Lewis."

Maria paused, her fingers trembling as she accepted the card. The name "Anderson Firm" was embossed in elegant script. A flicker of hope ignited within her.

"Please tell him... I want to see him," she pleaded, her voice cracking. "I beg you. I only want to talk. I don’t need a lawyer, please."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the silence. Rafael and the other lawyer exchanged glances, the weight of her sorrow settling heavily upon them.

Rafael stepped out of the prison, the heavy door clanging shut behind him. The weight of Maria’s sorrow clung to him like a second skin. Officer April walked him to the security checkpoint, her expression a mix of sympathy and concern.

"She’ll come around," April offered, attempting to inject hope into the somber atmosphere.

Rafael managed a faint smile. "I’ll keep coming until she agrees to talk," he replied, determination lacing his words.

As he settled into the backseat of his car, the city’s skyline blurred past the window, mirroring the turmoil within him. He loosened his tie, the fabric suddenly constricting, and dialed Mara’s number.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice weary.

"Hello," Mara responded, her tone attempting cheerfulness. "How did your first meeting with your client go?"

Rafael paused, sensing an undercurrent in her voice. "Are you okay? Your voice sounds... off."

Mara hesitated. "No, nothing’s wrong. I took the twins out shopping with Vera, and we had coffee. Maybe the air got to me. Just a slight headache."

Rafael’s brow furrowed. "Mara, please tell me you’re okay. What happened?"

She chuckled softly, the sound tinged with sadness. "Really, it’s nothing. Just tired, I guess."

But Rafael wasn’t convinced. The Mara he knew was strong, resilient. Yet, there was a fragility in her voice that unsettled him.

"If you need anything, I’m here," he offered gently. "I know," she whispered. "Thank you."

Rafael let out a slow breath, rubbing his temple. A beat of silence crackled between them before Mara spoke again, her voice softer now. "And your client... You met her?"

"Yes." His jaw tightened. "She’s... pitiful, Stef. Refuses my help. Doesn’t want legal counsel." Frustration bled into his words, rough at the edges. "That’s... sad," Mara murmured.

"Sad?" Rafael gave a hollow laugh. "It’s more than that. I can’t let her be convicted for murder, let her rot, or worse, end up killed when I could do something. I need to get through to her."

"Yeah," Mara whispered. "I hope you do." The line hummed with quiet tension before Rafael sighed. "Look, I called because... this might take more days than I thought. I’m sorry, Stef."

"No need to apologize," she said quickly, too quickly. "This is your work. I understand. Just... do what you must."

A pause. Then, almost as an afterthought: "Vera’s still here, so... hey, we’ll talk later, okay?" Something in her tone snagged at him. "Alright," he said slowly. "Send my regards to Vera."

But as the call ended, Rafael couldn’t shake it, something in Mara’s voice didn’t sit right, something did happen, and he knew its has to do with Ethan.

–

Mara was already home. The afternoon light slanted through the tall windows, painting lazy, golden stripes across the floor. Somewhere in the distance, the soft hum of laughter drifted in high, bright, and unburdened.

The twins were in the sunroom, their tiny voices carrying as they played a made-up game with the nannies. Vera was with them too, her hair a dark cascade down her back as she knelt beside the children, caught in a rare moment of ease. One of the nannies was laughing, her head thrown back, while another chased after a rogue toy that had escaped under a velvet armchair.

The house, usually too large and too quiet, felt like it was holding its breath in a good way, as if savoring the fragile calm. Mara lingered in the doorway, watching, her fingers brushing against the frame, hesitant to interrupt the scene.

Vera saw her first. From across the room, past the scattered toys and the twins’ gleeful shrieks, their eyes met. Something unspoken passed between them — a language built on shared grief and things too heavy to name.

Vera rose, smoothing her dress as she crossed the room, the fading sunlight catching in her hair. She stopped a breath away from Mara, her voice gentle but steady.

"Do you... wanna talk about my uncle? About what happened?"

For a beat, Mara said nothing. Just looked at the floor, then at the twins, then back at Vera. A soft, tired smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Don’t worry about it," Mara murmured. "Right now, what matters is them, Ethan and I... we’ll have to figure out how to be just parents for their sake. No past. No blood debts. Just... parents."

Vera nodded, though the ache in her chest didn’t ease.

"I’m starting work tomorrow," Mara added, her voice carrying that quiet determination Vera had always admired. "But first, I need to find a good school for the twins."

Vera brightened a little. "Andrew’s school is good," she offered. "One of the best, actually."

But Mara just smiled small, polite, the kind that says I hear you, but I don’t agree. She didn’t say anything else. Didn’t have to.

Without another word, Vera leaned in, pulling her into a brief, warm hug, one that held more than it said. Then she turned and left, her steps soft against the marble floor.

On the way home, with the city lights starting to bloom against the dusk, Vera pulled out her phone. Her fingers hesitated over the screen for a second, then she texted her uncle.

We need to talk.

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