The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back
Chapter 216: we are fighting this

Chapter 216: we are fighting this

The room smelled faintly of something Ethan couldn’t quite put his hand on, probably the air felt still. Echoes of quiet conversations bounced between glass walls and cold concrete floors.

Maria-Isabel sat on the edge of her seat, arms crossed tightly over her chest, with Isabella, a fragile wall of choas. When the guard announced Ethan’s name, her heart sank—not because she was surprised he’d come again, but because part of her had foolishly hoped he wouldn’t.

He walked in slowly, his shoulders heavier than the last time she saw him. The dark blue coat he wore made his eyes look stormy, like he had carried bad weather with him. He stopped in front of her and waited. She didn’t stand. She didn’t even blink.

"I told you not to come here again," she said, her voice brittle. "I told you what I want. Just help me raise my daughter from in here. Nothing more."

Ethan didn’t respond right away. He dropped into the plastic chair opposite her and leaned forward, elbows on the metal table, hands clasped. The space between them was both suffocating and magnetic.

"You don’t mean that," he said quietly. "You’re angry. And tired. And scared."

She stood, shaking her head. "I’m not writing a statement. I don’t want legal help. I’m not getting out, Ethan. Let it go."

"Sit," he said firmly. "Please. Sit down."

There was something in his tone—gentle but edged, like velvet stretched over steel. Maria-Isabel hesitated. Then, as if her body moved on its own, she lowered herself back into the chair, not looking at him.

"I’ve made a lot of mistakes," he said, his voice husky. "But I never wanted you to pay for them. I let that kiss happen. I should’ve told Mara right away. Should’ve done something. Instead, I kept it quiet. I thought I was protecting her. I was wrong."

She stared past him, her fingers gripping the edge of the table.

"You think this is about you?" she whispered. "You think foolishness ruined my life? You have no idea what happened after that night, Ethan. You don’t want to know."

"I do," he said, leaning closer. "Because I want to do something to correct my wrong. I failed both of you. And now... now I have to live with what it cost us. But you don’t get to decide how this ends, Maria-Isabel."

She turned her face toward him, eyes sharp. "Yes, I do."

He exhaled. "No. You don’t. Because this isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about your daughter. Do you want her to grow up thinking her mother murdered her father in cold blood? Do you want the world to call you a killer, or worse, forget your name entirely and call her the daughter of the one who killed both her husband and lover?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"You’re threatening me," she said.

"I’m giving you the truth," he said. "If you won’t accept legal help, I’ll be forced to call in a psychiatric evaluation. You won’t go to prison. No. You’ll go to an institution. They’ll medicate you until you forget who you even are. Do you want that? Is that the legacy you want to leave your little girl?"

Maria-Isabel stared at him in disbelief, her mouth parted in shock. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"You wouldn’t."

Ethan reached into his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He didn’t unfold it. He just placed it on the table between them, like a final card in a high-stakes game.

"I already did."

She didn’t move. Didn’t touch the paper. Her hands trembled slightly, knuckles pale. The silence between them stretched, heavy with things unsaid, memories untouched, and a choice neither wanted to make. Maria-Isabel finally looked at the paper. Her hand hovered over it. She wasn’t ready. But the past was no longer something she could bury—and her daughter’s future was not something she could risk.

Ethan’s voice cut through the air, calm but heavy, as though each word had weight he could barely carry.

"I was at the scene," he said. "Your old house."

Maria-Isabel’s shoulders stiffened. Her gaze dropped to the metal table, unmoving.

"The police had taken what they needed—files, photos, blood swabs. They thought they had it all. But they didn’t look in the second freezer in the garage. Maybe because it was taped shut under boxes. I found it."

She didn’t look up, but Ethan could see her hands had begun to tremble.

"There was another body, Maria."

Her breath caught. Just slightly. But enough.

"In the freezer. Buried beneath frozen lasagna and ice crystals. Male. The forensic team will match the prints soon enough."

He paused, then leaned forward, locking eyes with her. No more pleasantries. No more walking on glass.

"Now you’re going to tell me everything. From the beginning. From how and when Daniel found you. Don’t lie. Don’t protect anyone. Start talking."

Maria-Isabel pressed her palms flat against the table, as though grounding herself, and looked away, blinking fast. But before she could respond, Ethan kept going, his tone shifting—more urgent, more personal.

"And listen to me, because this is the part that matters."

She looked at him now.

"I don’t care who I disappoint. I don’t care what people say. They told me to walk away from this case. To hand it over. To leave it. That it’s too personal." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "And they’re right. I should’ve. I would’ve."

His voice cracked just slightly. Just enough to pierce the armor she kept wrapped around her heart.

"But then you called me here. You didn’t have to, but you did. And now I know too much. Now I can’t walk away. Not when I know there’s a little girl out there—your daughter—who’s practically living in a prison cell with you."

Maria-Isabel covered her mouth with her hand. Her shoulders shook, but she stayed silent.

"They tried to take her, didn’t they?" Ethan asked softly. "Child Services."

She gave a weak nod, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"I was told she fainted. The doctors said she’d start having seizures if she weren’t around you. That she’s used to only you. She won’t eat, won’t sleep, won’t talk unless you’re there."

His eyes darkened.

"Now think of her, Maria. Just think about her. What happens to her if you’re found guilty of two murders? You could be sentenced to death."

A strangled sob escaped Maria-Isabel’s throat. She covered her eyes, the tears now unstoppable, like something inside her had finally given way.

Ethan leaned closer, lowering his voice to a murmur.

"You can hate me all you want. You can blame me. But this... this isn’t about us anymore. This is about saving that little girl from losing the only person she knows as home."

Maria shook her head, as if trying to push the pain back into place. But the flood had started.

"I didn’t mean to—" she choked. "It didn’t start the way it ended. I didn’t know Daniel was ever going to find us."

Ethan didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just waited.

"And I never thought it would lead to blood on the floor. Or a body in a freezer. Or my baby growing up in a place like this... afraid."

She finally looked at him. Broken. Raw. Human.

"I’ll tell you everything."