The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 108: Found Family

In the living room of the Anderson mansion, Vera sat cross-legged on the floor, her legs covered in healing bruises, a small sketchpad on her lap. She was drawing again something she hadn’t done since before the pain began.

Valerie sat beside her, braiding her hair gently, like muscle memory. No words passed between them, but the air was thick with something more powerful—recognition. A bond reborn. A mother learning her daughter’s favorite colors. A daughter finds safety in silence.

Bella leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, watching them with a quiet smile, when she found out from Ethan Valerie was alive she dropped everything and came running not only was her daughter alive she also had a granddaughter which made her feel a little old now because she was now a granny but none of that matter. She was glad she had them her life meant something now. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"She’s got your fire, Val," Bella said.

Valerie looked up. "She’s got more than that mum. She’s got hope."

Vera stood by her bedroom window later that night, the stars soft and kind above her. She held the little pendant Valerie had given her. An old family heirloom. A small flame was engraved into the metal.

"You come from fire," Valerie had whispered. "But you don’t have to burn everything down to prove it." Vera smiled.

She was learning. Not just how to fight but how to live.

The house was asleep, hushed under the weight of healing. Only the softest sounds breathed life into the silence the wind brushing through trees outside, the low hum of the night, and the steady rhythm of unborn heartbeats pulsing from the monitor.

Valerie knocked gently on Ethan’s door, cracked it open, and stepped inside. No words were needed he lifted the covers, and she slipped in beside him, curling up under the sea of pillows. Just like when they were kids. Back when the world felt safer. Simpler.

The gentle echo of tiny heartbeats filled the room, pulsing like magic.

"Heartbeats," she murmured, eyes glassy. "It’s magical... your babies?"

Ethan nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "Yeah. My babies... with Mara I mean, Stef."

Valerie smiled, a bittersweet softness on her lips. "Yeah, so I heard."

She glanced over at him, voice dipping into a deeper register. "How did you grow up to be such a jerk? My baby brother... he knew better. He was a gentleman. He would never hurt a fly, especially after seeing how Philip treated me."

Ethan’s eyes dropped. "I don’t know what happened, Val. I messed up. Big time."

Valerie studied him. The weight of his regret hung heavy, but it didn’t undo what had been done.

"Yes, I know Stef still loves you," she said, no sugar-coating. "But I can also say with absolute certainty... she’ll never come back to you. Not after this."

His voice cracked. "What do I do? Stop fighting for her? For a place in our babies’ lives?"

Valerie’s gaze softened not pitying, just... human.

"Maybe it’s too late to fight to be her husband," she said, "but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a place for you as their father. Don’t mess that up too."

Ethan closed his eyes. "How do I do it, Val? How do I see her with another man—knowing he’ll be there for every bedtime story, every scraped knee, every first day of school... while I’m just the guy who messed up?"

And then he broke. Quiet tears. No theatrics. Just raw, undiluted ache.

"Well," Valerie said gently, "that’s how you learn."

She took a breath, steady but sharp. "We’ve normalized cheating so much, we don’t realize the scars it leaves. Cheating no matter how small has consequences. And sometimes, the punishment is letting go. Watching her find happiness... without you."

His voice came out like a dying flame. "Doesn’t love account for something? Doesn’t regret... doesn’t second chances matter anymore? Or do you, like her, believe I’m beyond saving?"

Valerie didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she pulled him into a hug. The kind that says I’m here even when the answers aren’t.

"Maybe love and second chances do matter," she whispered. "But that whole ’love conquers all’ thing? Sometimes... it’s just an illusion. Real love? It’s got limits. It forgives, but it doesn’t forget. And sometimes it walks away... not because it stopped loving, but because it finally started loving itself."

She brushed a hand over his hair, holding him like the little boy she used to protect.

"But hey... life happens. And you never know. If Stef believes in fate, in mercy... maybe there’s still a sliver of redemption out there."

She didn’t say more.

Because the room was full of truth.

And the only sound that remained was the soft, steady thump-thump of unborn heartbeats... reminders of new life, even when love felt lost.

—

The Shepherd Mansion

The moon was lazy tonight. Just a silver smudge in the velvet sky.

Rafael found her on the old wooden swing behind the house, the one that creaked like an old song when it moved. Mara sat curled up in a hoodie far too big for her, sleeves pulled over her hands, bare toes grazing the ground. Her hair was a little wild. Her eyes are a little dull. But she was breathing and that, in itself, was a kind of victory.

He approached quietly, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.

"You know," he said, tone light, "when most people invite me to dinner, it usually comes with actual food and less... brooding under the stars."

A tiny smile tugged at her lips. Just a flicker. But it was there.

"Well," she murmured, "I didn’t invite you."

He held his hands up, mock surrender. "Fair. But your brother did. He said, and I quote, ’Stef’s being moody, go distract her.’ So here I am."

She chuckled softly. "Sounds like Steve."

Rafael sat beside her, careful not to let the swing creak too much.

They rocked in silence for a beat. The night air is cool, not cold. The kind that makes you feel things. Mara’s fingers fidgeted with the sleeves of her hoodie, eyes on nothing in particular.

"I don’t really know how to be right now," she said suddenly. "Everyone keeps looking at me like I’m supposed to be either okay or completely broken. And I’m just... floating. Between."

Rafael nodded. "Floating’s okay. Floating means you haven’t sunk."

She looked at him then. Really looked. His dark eyes didn’t flinch under hers. He wasn’t afraid of her pain. Wasn’t trying to make it neat or digestible.

"I’m angry," she whispered.

"Good. You should be."

"And tired."

"Also fair."

"And terrified that the person I once loved might be someone I can never trust again."

Rafael’s voice was gentle. "That’s not something you have to decide tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever, if you don’t want to."

Silence again. But this time, it wasn’t heavy. It was... soft. Restful.

After a while, he leaned back and looked up at the stars.

"Want to hear a terrible joke?" he asked.

She groaned. "Please don’t."

"I’m gonna do it anyway."

She smiled despite herself.

"Why don’t skeletons fight each other?"

"Why?"

"They don’t have the guts."

She laughed. Actually laughed. It was short, a little rusty, but real.

Rafael looked over at her, his grin wide and warm.

"There she is."

Stef shook her head, wiping at her eyes. "You’re impossible."

"I prefer irresistible, but sure, impossible works."

The wind whispered through the trees. The swing creaked. And for the first time in a while, Mara didn’t feel like she was drowning.

She wasn’t okay. Not yet.

But sitting beside Rafael, under that lazy moon, she wasn’t alone either.

And maybe just maybe that was enough for tonight. Mara has been home after the incident just to nurse herself and her babies back to health, she can’t wait to start going back to work, Valerie was doing a good job with the foundation with Vera helping her out. She can now focus on her career being the damn good lawyer she was.

–

It was supposed to be a quiet afternoon.

Rafael had just stepped out of the small bookstore downtown, a cup of black coffee in one hand, the other tucking a novel into his coat pocket. He wasn’t expecting company especially not the kind that carried ghosts on its shoulders.

But there he was.

Ethan.

Standing across the street, jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes dark with a thousand unsaid things. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept. Like guilt had been living under his skin, clawing at his insides.

Rafael’s jaw tightened for just a second. Then he stepped off the curb and walked straight toward him.

The street between them didn’t feel wide enough for the weight they were both carrying.

When they finally stood face to face, neither said a word at first.

Then, Rafael broke the silence.

"Didn’t think you’d be here."

He took a sip of coffee, not breaking eye contact.

"I wasn’t planning on running into you either," Ethan said quietly. "But here we are."

Rafael’s smile was cold, not cruel just aware. A man who’d walked through too much fire to play pretend.

"You looking for Stef?" Rafael asked, voice calm but tight.

Ethan looked away, then back. "No. I’m looking for... space. Time. I don’t know."

"That’s good," Rafael said, nodding once. "She deserves all the time she needs."

There it was. The tension snapped like a rubber band between them.

Ethan’s mouth twitched. "You think I don’t know that?"

"I think you’re trying to find a way to rewrite a story after burning the first draft." Rafael took another sip. "And I think maybe you don’t get to decide how it ends this time."

"You love her." Ethan didn’t ask it. He just knew but maybe his answer may change everything. Maybe he would snap and break his face or maybe he will face reality.