The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back
Chapter 184: Arrogance 1

Chapter 184: Arrogance 1

Mara watched Steve, something inside her tightening. The conversation was brief but left a trace of unease behind. Steve’s shoulders stiffened, his voice low and strained.

"It’s not looking good. You need to book an appointment immediately," came a voice from the other end. Mara could only catch fragments.

"I’ll come by," Steve replied, his tone clipped, something simmering beneath it.

When he hung up, Mara didn’t ask right away. She waited for him to slip the phone back into his pocket, watching the way his fingers lingered there like it might ring again.

"Is everything okay?" she finally asked, her voice careful, a thread of quiet concern woven through. Steve glanced at her then, and for a heartbeat too long, he didn’t answer. The hallway seemed to hold its breath.

"Yes, sister, just some issues at the firm," Steve said, his voice lighter than it should have been. He forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "See, you have a lot of things to do. No need to worry about us." Mara whispers as his hand found her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze or at least, that’s what he intended. But his fingers trembled faintly against her, a tremor he couldn’t quite suppress.

Mara frowned. "Steve—"

"Just go to the law firm," she interrupted, too quickly. "Trust me. We’ll be fine." Steve pulled her into a hug. His arms were tight, almost desperate, as if he was holding on just a second longer than he should. And then he was gone, stepping back, turning away before she could see the tension in his jaw. But she had already seen it.

She had seen the way his hands shook as he shoved them into his pockets. The way his shoulders stiffened when he thought she wasn’t looking.

The way his voice had that strained cheerfulness, like a thin layer of ice over something much darker. Mara stood there, watching him walk away, her chest tightening with unease. Something was wrong. And whatever it was, Steve was lying about it.

"Shall we leave, ma’am?" the driver asked, his voice slicing gently through the fog of Mara’s thoughts.

She blinked, the present catching up with her like a wave washing over ankles too long buried in sand. "Yes," she murmured, gathering herself with practiced grace.

She slid into the car, the scent of new leather and faint traces of lavender from the nannies’ perfume surrounding her. The twins clambered in after, giggling over something only they understood, their laughter a brief, bright note in the hush that had settled over Mara’s heart. She made sure their seatbelts were fastened, tugged them twice for good measure, smoothing down Audrey’s hair and brushing an invisible smudge from Andrew’s cheek. Little rituals. Tiny assurances that, for now, things were safe.

The car hummed to life, pulling away from the house that held too many ghosts. The city blurred past in streaks of gray and green, and Mara let herself be carried by it, not needing to be anywhere but here in this soft, half-forgotten moment.

It wasn’t long before they arrived. The gates of the most prestigious school in the state stood tall and unapologetic, polished brass glinting in the late morning sun. A place that spoke in hushed tones of old money and impeccable lineage.

Mara had made up her mind not to take Andrew back to his former school. That Chapter was sealed shut, locked away behind bitter memories and dangerous proximity. Lucy still had access there, still knew the halls and the faces and the soft spots where she could slip in like smoke. And Mara... Mara wasn’t ready to explain why Lucy could no longer come near her son. Why had a line been drawn.

The principal was waiting for them at the entrance, a tall woman with kind, intelligent eyes and the kind of smile that suggested control without cruelty. Mara liked her immediately.

They toured the school, the corridors bright and clean, filled with the easy murmur of children’s voices, the scent of books and sun-warmed wood. Mara let her fingers trail along a row of art projects, each one a burst of color and wild imagination.

She liked everything she saw. The quiet courtyards. The sprawling library. The way the classrooms felt was lived-in, not cold. It was a good environment for the twins. A place they could stitch themselves into without fear.

"If you’re satisfied, we could finalize everything in my office," the principal offered, her voice warm, breaking the silence.

Mara turned, about to respond, when the air in the room seemed to ripple. There, standing by the doorway like a memory made flesh, was Ethan. Grace was with him, hovering a step behind, but it was Ethan who held the room. As if the storm of last night had never happened. As if the bruises, Mara admitted she was in love with Refael, was nothing to a man like him. He stood there with that quiet defiance in his posture, the faint smirk at the corner of his mouth like he was already winning a game no one else could see.

Mara’s breath caught. There’d been a time, not so long ago, yet it felt like a lifetime, when she had loved him. A wild, reckless, all-consuming kind of love. And somewhere, buried beneath the ache and betrayal, a part of her still remembered.

He could make her love him again. He could do it. The words weren’t spoken, but Mara could see them written in the set of his jaw, in the way his gaze locked onto hers, daring her to deny it.

"Well, I think the compound is too small," Ethan announced, hands shoved casually into his pockets like he owned the place, like his presence here wasn’t a loaded gun cocked and ready. His voice was smooth, carrying easily through the quiet office, every syllable dipped in the kind of arrogance you could only earn from getting away with too much for too long.

"And the school pool," he added, glancing toward the principal with a faint smile that wasn’t a smile at all, "is also too small."

Mara felt the pulse in her temple start to throb.

"No offense," Ethan went on, gesturing as though to soften the blow, though everyone in the room knew it was meant to sting. "But I want what’s best for my children."

Mara’s head dropped into a slow, disbelieving shake. For crying out loud. The twins were barely a year old. A year. They wouldn’t be doing laps or cannonballs in a pool anytime soon, and even if they did, what mattered was peace. Safety. Not how wide the pool was or how big the courtyard felt to a man obsessed with appearances.

The principal started to speak, her voice polite but edged. "Say, we—"

"I think we should just maintain Andrew’s school," Ethan cut in smoothly, his voice a blade disguised as silk. "A good school. Fit for a prince. And a princess."

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