The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 90: The gun shot

The sound sliced through the night like a blade. Mara’s breath hitched, her body locking in place. Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out everything but the sudden, chilling realization.

Philip wasn’t just framing her. Philip was hunting her.

Then, without warning, Rafael grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the shadows as a group of armed men stormed into the courtyard below. They were searching for someone, her.

"We need to move. Now." Rafael’s eyes darted toward the sound, then back to her. "You don’t have to trust me," he said, voice low. "But right now, I’m the only one who can get you out of here thinks."

Another shot. Closer this time.

Mara bared her teeth in a humorless grin. "Fine. But if you double-cross me?"She didn’t finish the threat. She didn’t need to.

"We don’t have time," Rafael whispered urgently. "He put a price on your head, Stefania. And they will kill anyone who stands in their way." A second shot rang out, followed by a scream. Vera.

Mara’s heart lurched as she wrenched free from Rafael’s grip, ready to run toward her friend, but he pulled her back forcefully. "You run out there, and you die."

Stefan appeared from the hallway, his face bloodied. "We’ve been compromised," he panted. "They’re coming for us."

Mara’s mind spun. This wasn’t just about Alcester anymore. Philip wasn’t just hunting her, he want her gone

—

Steph paced back and forth in his apartment, his phone pressed tightly to his ear as he tried calling Ethan once again. The call went straight to voicemail. His frustration mounted.

"Damn it, Ethan, where are you?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair before quickly dialing Ethan’s mother.

"Hello, Steph," Bella’s gentle voice answered.

"Mrs. Bella, have you heard from Ethan? I can’t reach him."

"Ethan? No, dear. Is something wrong?"

"I... I don’t know. I saw a report on the news about an accident. The car was his. They didn’t find a body, but I’m worried."

Bella inhaled sharply. "Oh my God. Have you checked the hospitals? Have you called the police?"

"I’m working on it. I just hold on." Steph quickly switched to another call as Ethan’s grandfather’s number appeared on the screen.

"Steph? What’s going on?" Mr. Anderson Sr.’s deep voice came through. "I just saw the news. Tell me my grandson is alright."

"I don’t know yet. Nobody was found, but I’ve been calling every hospital and making inquiries. Nothing so far."

"Keep looking. I’ll have some people help with the search," his grandfather assured him before the call ended.

Steph’s worry deepened as he continued making calls, each one leading to the same dead end. Where was Ethan?

Meanwhile, in a private hospital on the outskirts of the city, Ethan remained unconscious, Lucy sat beside Ethan in the hospital holding her phone, staring at the news broadcast that showed the wreckage of Ethan’s car. Her expression was cold. She had known about the accident for hours, yet she hadn’t told his family. A small smirk played on her lips as she turned off the screen light of her phone.

A doctor and a nurse stood at Ethan’s bedside, reviewing his condition.

"He needs more advanced treatment," the doctor murmured, glancing at Lucy, who stood with her arms crossed. "It would be best if we transferred him abroad."

Lucy nodded. "I’ll handle the paperwork. I want him in my care."

With that, she left the room, her heels clicking against the floor as she went to make arrangements. As soon as she was gone, Ethan stirred. His head throbbed, a dull pain pounding behind his eyes. His vision blurred before slowly coming into focus.

"Where...where am I?" he croaked out.

The nurse quickly moved to his side. "Sir, please relax. You’ve been in an accident. You’re safe."

Ethan blinked, his mind foggy. Then, suddenly, flashes of memory hit him. His car skidding, the impact, the darkness. Panic rose in his chest.

"My name is Ethan Anderson," he muttered, wincing as he tried to move. "Call my assistant."

The nurse hesitated. "Sir—"

"Please," Ethan insisted, pushing past the pain as he recited a number, Steph’s number before exhaustion took over and he drifted back into unconsciousness.

Minutes later, Steph’s phone rang. Seeing an unknown number, he answered quickly. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mr. Steph?" a nurse’s voice asked.

"Yes, who is this?" he demanded.

"I’m calling from Westwood Private Hospital. We have a patient here named Ethan Anderson. He gave me your number before he fell unconscious again."

Steph’s heart pounded. "Oh, thank God! I’m sending an ambulance immediately. Don’t let him out of your sight."

He wasted no time, making arrangements to have Ethan transported to his personal doctor. Relief flooded his veins, but anger simmered beneath it. Someone had clearly been keeping Ethan away from his family.

By the time Lucy returned to the hospital, her paperwork complete, she expected to find Ethan still in his bed, waiting to be transported to the destination she had planned. Instead, she was met with an empty bed.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Where is he?!" she demanded, turning to the nearest nurse.

The nurse flinched at the venom in her tone. "Ma’am, his family came for him. He was taken into their care."

Lucy’s face darkened, her hands balling into fists. "You had no right to let them take him! I am his wife! I am his rightful family! You had no authority to release him to anyone else!"

"I’m sorry, ma’am, but—"

"You will be sorry!" Lucy snapped, her fury boiling over. "I will sue this hospital for negligence!"

With one last glare at the terrified staff, she stormed out, her mind racing. Ethan was hers. And she wasn’t about to let him slip away so easily.

Ethan woke up to the soft murmur of voices and the familiar scent of his childhood home. His head felt heavy, his body sore. As he blinked his eyes open, he recognized his surroundings his old bedroom, the one he had grown up in.

"Ethan!" Steph’s relieved voice broke through his daze. "You’re awake. How do you feel?"

Ethan groaned, trying to sit up. "Like I got hit by a truck."

A chuckle escaped Steph. "Well, close enough. Your car was wrecked. You’ve been unconscious for a while."

Ethan frowned, trying to piece things together. "How bad was it?"

A doctor stepped forward, clearing his throat. "You suffered a severe concussion, two fractured ribs, and a dislocated shoulder. There was also some internal bruising, but nothing life-threatening. You were lucky."

Ethan sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Lucky... yeah."

Then, suddenly, another thought crashed into his mind. His heart clenched with urgency. "Where’s Mara?"

Silence fell over the room. Steph shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Ethan’s gaze.

"Steph," Ethan said, his voice firmer. "Where is my wife?"

Steph opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling to find the right words. "Ethan... I—"

Before he could answer, the door creaked open. His mother stepped inside, her expression cautious, as if she knew the next few moments would change everything.

Ethan’s pulse quickened. "What the hell is going on? Where is Mara?"

Ethan’s doctor had cautioned the family that he might experience memory issues due to his traumatic brain injury, a common consequence of such incidents. As a result, Ethan found himself recalling only the happier times of his marriage to Mara, completely unaware of the turmoil that had led to their current estrangement.​

Mrs. Bella, Ethan’s mother, loved her son deeply but understood the importance of confronting the truth. She sat beside him, her expression a mix of concern and resolve.​

"Ethan," she began gently, "there are things you need to remember about your relationship with Mara."​

Ethan frowned, confusion clouding his eyes. "What do you mean, Mom? Mara and I were happy together."​

Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Bella explained, "Mara is the long-lost daughter of the Shepherd family. You became involved with Maria Isabel her best friend. When Mara became pregnant, you accused her of infidelity, doubting the paternity of the child and saying hurtful things."​

Ethan’s face contorted in pain as he struggled to grasp his mother’s words. "I... I did that?"​

"Yes, Ethan," she confirmed softly. "You and Mara were in the process of divorcing before your accident."​

Ethan pressed his hands to his temples, a sharp headache intensifying as he tried to recall these events. The memories remained elusive, leaving him feeling lost and overwhelmed.​

"I can’t remember," he admitted, frustration evident in his voice. Mrs. Bella placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Give it time, Ethan. Focus on your recovery. Memories may return, and when they do, you’ll have the opportunity to seek forgiveness and make amends."

​Ethan’s relentless attempts to piece together his fragmented memories began to take a toll on his already vulnerable mind.

Ethan starts to scream in pain holding his head as the doctors try to calm him down, the strain exacerbated his condition, leading to a significant deterioration in his cognitive functions. As a result, Ethan experienced profound retrograde amnesia, causing him to lose access to a substantial portion of his past, particularly memories associated with pain and trauma.

This left him mentally situated three years in the past a time before he had even met Mara.