The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back
Chapter 193: No need to panic

Chapter 193: No need to panic

Stefan pushed the door open without knocking. He’d learned long ago that when a Steve walked away from the dinner table mid-meal, it meant something bad.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, a single bedside lamp casting soft, shaky shadows against the walls. And there was Steve, hunched over like a man carrying the weight of his entire life on his shoulders, fumbling with a small amber bottle in his trembling hands.

The bottle slipped from his fingers, pills scattering like tiny white marbles across the hardwood floor.

"Shit," Steve muttered, dropping to his knees, scrambling to gather them up.

But when his eyes met Stefan’s, he froze and for a second, Steve looked like a boy again. Scared. Exposed.

Without a word, Steve shoved the bottle under the bed. Two pills remained clutched in his palm, and without hesitation, he tossed them back, swallowing them dry. His throat worked around the pills like they were stones.

Stefan bent down, quietly picking up one lone pill that had rolled near his foot. He turned it over in his fingers, the imprint on it catching the lamplight. No label needed. He was a doctor, after all.

His stomach dropped.

"Steve..." Stefan’s voice cracked on his brother’s name.

"Don’t," Steve said sharply, though his voice was paper-thin. "Don’t alert the others. It’s nothing, Stefan. Just stress. I... I took some tests. I’m waiting on results. Don’t want them panicking before there’s anything to panic about."

There was a plea in his voice, one Stefan hadn’t heard in years.

Stefan said nothing, just stepped forward and helped ease his brother to the bed, covering him with the blanket like he used to do when they were kids and Steve had snuck back into the house after fighting with Dad.

"Alright, Steve," Stefan whispered. "Until the results come in."

He slipped the pill into his pocket, not because he doubted his brother, but because love made you cautious. Love made you stay ready.

Steve was already half-asleep, or pretending to be, his face turned to the wall, the weight of secrets pressing the air flat.

Stefan left the room quietly, shutting the door behind him.

And there was Mara. Leaning against the wall like she’d been waiting for him, worry written in the curve of her brow.

"How is he?" she asked, her voice soft and cracking at the edges.

"He just needs rest," Stefan lied, the words tasting bitter. "Long day. A little stress. You know how he is."

Mara studied him for a long moment, and for a second, Stefan thought she might call him on it, but instead, she just sighed and nodded.

"I’ll check on him in the morning."

They both made their way to their rooms, silent and heavy with things left unsaid.

In Mara’s room, the nannies had already tucked Audrey and Andrew into their cribs, their tiny chests rising and falling with the pure, untroubled sleep only children knew.

Mara kissed them both, brushing a stray curl from Audrey’s forehead, then collapsed onto her bed. Her bones ached from the weight of the day, and her heart felt bruised in places she didn’t have names for.

Her phone lit up on the nightstand, and for a second, she hesitated. Then picked it up.

Rafael.

A small, tired smile tugged at her lips.

"Hey," she answered.

"Just wanted to say goodnight to the most beautiful girlfriend," Rafael’s voice came through, low and soothing, a balm against the noise of her world.

She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the sound. "Goodnight, Rafa."

Neither of them hung up. They didn’t need words. Just breathing in each other’s space across the line was enough for now.

And somewhere down the hall, Stefan turned the pill over in his palm again, the imprint clear in the moonlight. Something was coming. And none of them were ready.

—

The morning crept in slowly, a pale gold light spilling through the curtains like it was too shy to fully claim the room. The Shepherd house, usually alive with early chatter and the chaotic shuffle of seven different schedules, felt off. The walls seemed to hold onto the night’s conversations, thick with the weight of things unsaid.

Mara stirred first.

She blinked awake, the sun painting soft lines across her face. For a moment, she lay there, listening to the steady breathing of her twins in their cribs. Andrew let out a tiny sigh in his sleep, a sound so small it cracked her heart right open. She rolled over and picked up her phone.

No missed calls.

No messages.

Nothing from Rafael. Nothing from Stefan.

She frowned.

Quietly, she slipped from bed, padded across the room to check on her babies. She kissed their cheeks, whispered a promise she didn’t even have words for, then grabbed a sweater and tiptoed out of the room.

The hallway felt colder than usual.

As she passed Steve’s door, she paused a hand hovering near the knob. The memories of last night flickered in her mind, Steve’s trembling hand.

Her stomach twisted.

But the door stayed closed, and she left it that way.

Downstairs, the housekeeper was already bustling around the kitchen, and the scent of fresh coffee cut through the morning’s tension like a small mercy.

"Good morning, Miss Stefania," the housekeeper chirped, though even her voice seemed a little too careful.

"Morning, Bessie," Mara murmured, forcing a smile.

Stefan was already at the kitchen island, a mug in hand, dark circles bruising the skin beneath his eyes. He didn’t look up as she entered, just stared down into the swirling coffee like it might whisper answers if he watched long enough.

"You didn’t sleep," Mara said quietly, pouring herself a cup.

"Neither did you," Stefan replied without looking at her.

They didn’t need to say Steve’s name. It was there, hanging between them like a ghost.

"How is he?" Mara asked after a moment.

Stefan finally met her gaze. "Still sleeping. I checked on him an hour ago. Said he was fine, but... You know how he is."

Mara nodded. Yeah. She knew.

The soft patter of footsteps on the stairs made them both look up. It was Stanley, hair a mess, shirt wrinkled. He yawned, grabbing a piece of toast off a plate.

"Mornin’," he mumbled, glancing between them. He could feel the tension, sharp and undeniable. "Okay, what’s going on?"

Before anyone could answer, Steve appeared in the doorway.

He looked... better. Not great. Not good. But better. Clean-shaven, dressed, the same old crooked grin on his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Morning, fam," Steve greeted, voice bright but brittle. "Why do y’all look like somebody died?"

Mara stood, crossed the room in three long strides, and pulled him into a hug.

Steve stiffened for a heartbeat, then melted into it.

"I’m fine, kiddo," he whispered against her hair. "I promise."

Mara didn’t believe it.

Neither did Stefan.

But they let him have it for now.

Breakfast was quieter than usual. The twins came down later, bright and bubbly in their tiny school uniforms, and for a while, the house was filled with the sounds of innocent giggles and clumsy footsteps.

And Steve... Steve watched them with a look Mara couldn’t name. Like a man memorizing a moment he wasn’t sure he’d get again.

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