The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 113: Pay your debt

The walls were trembling. Not literally but with the weight of Ethan’s fury, they might as well have been. The blinds were half-drawn, casting angry stripes of sunlight across the floor. A paperweight shattered near the window. One of his chairs had already been kicked over.

And Ethan?

Ethan was pacing like a caged animal.

His fists clenched. His jaw locked. Every few seconds he ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, "She played them she played everyone. Pregnant? Really? She probably made it up just to dodge prison time. And that judge just...just let her walk out?!"

The door creaked open, soft and cautious. Steph stepped in, closing it behind him with a gentle click. He didn’t flinch at the broken glass on the floor or the scattered files.

He just crossed his arms. "You done?"

Ethan turned sharply, eyes wild. "Did you see what she did in there? She manipulated the entire courtroom like it was a stage. And now she’s free. With a baby! That she’s waving around like a shield!"

Steph nodded slowly. "Yeah. I saw. And I also saw you, ready to throw everything away just to scream at her in public."

"She’s gonna come for Mara," Ethan growled. "You know she will. She already said it."

"Which is exactly why you need to chill. You think Mara needs you charging into battle right now like some half-baked knight with a bruised ego?"

Ethan looked away, shoulders heaving.

"Lucy wants you reactive," Steph continued, voice steady. "She wants you fired up and distracted so you’ll self-destruct. So you’ll push Mara even further away."

Ethan’s jaw tightened, the words cutting deeper than he expected.

Steph walked over, picked up the chair, set it upright again. "If you really want to fix this if Mara even lets you, you’ve got to start with you. No more emotional outbursts. No more secret meetings with Lucy. No more playing right into her game."

Ethan sat down heavily, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

"I already lost Mara," he said, voice quieter now. "This is my chance to fix this now, I can’t lose her again."

"Then don’t give her another reason," Steph said. "Let Lucy burn herself out. Meanwhile, you rebuild what’s real. Starting with honesty."

Ethan nodded slowly, chest still tight.

–

The city was quiet in that eerie way it gets just after midnight. No sirens, no voices. Just the hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of old clock as the building settled into its bones.

Stanley was sprawled on his bed, one arm slung over his face, the phone on his chest like it had something to confess. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it the knock, the voice, the way she hung up.

Then, finally, his phone lit up again.

Rhina.

He sat up fast, heart doing this weird double-time thing. He waited half a second. Then answered.

"Hey."

"Stanley," she said, too fast. Too bright. "Sorry about earlier I had to go. It was nothing. Just a mix-up. Wrong address. Guy thought I was his cousin or something. He had the wrong floor."

Stanley said nothing for a second, just listened.

Her words were smooth, but her voice wasn’t. It was tight. A little too breathless. And underneath it all, he could hear it the tension. Like someone trying to walk across ice that’s already cracking.

"You okay?" he asked finally, keeping his tone low. Calm. Watching the truth squirm under the surface. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

"Yeah! Yeah, of course," she said quickly. "I just... didn’t want you to worry. It wasn’t anything."

"You sure?"

A pause. Then: "Yes. I promise."

But Stanley’s gut twisted. It wasn’t what she said it was the way she said it. The way her voice dipped too low at the end. The way she didn’t ask him anything. No "How are you feeling," no "Thank you for stepping up." Just a quick fix, like slapping a band-aid on a wound and hoping no one checks underneath.

"Okay," he said slowly. "If you say so."

"Stanley..." she started, and for a second it felt like she might say something real. But then she swallowed it. "Goodnight."

"Night."

She hung up first.

Stanley stared at the screen, jaw clenched. Something was off. Something was definitely off.

He wasn’t sure if Rhina was protecting herself, or hiding something from him. Either way, he wasn’t going to let it slide.

The next day.

Sunlight poured through the tall Shepherd firm windows, casting golden halos over marble floors and echoing footsteps. The buzz of quiet conversations hummed like a distant radio, and Mara moved through it all like poetry in motion.

She stood in the center of the firm, heels clicking with purpose as she greeted the receptionist who was organizing case files, and offered warm smiles to every struggling soul who passed her desk.

This was where she belonged. Not in the chaos of betrayal, not trapped in the emotional wreckage of Ethan’s mistakes, but here in the law firm, building something good out of the ashes left behind.

And for once, there was a strange silence behind her. A stillness.

With their uncle Phillip finally sentenced and locked behind bars for murder, fraud, and a handful of darker crimes, the siblings could finally exhale. A Chapter was closed. A legacy of manipulation buried behind prison walls.

Stanford had even joked that morning, "It’s finally over. We can breathe again."

But Mara knew better.

She paused by one of the associates doors, sensing something cold slither down her spine. It was instinct, the old kind—something that didn’t need evidence, just intuition.

Because men like Phillip?

They didn’t go quietly. They didn’t serve time. They served vengeance.

–

The cell was dim, but Phillip sat perfectly still, dressed in orange like a wolf wearing sheep’s skin. His hands were folded on the metal table in front of him. His face was calm.

But his eyes?

His eyes were calculating.

A guard passed by. Phillip didn’t look up. Just smiled to himself and muttered, barely loud enough to hear:

"Let them think it’s over."

In the corner of his cell, taped behind a peeling poster, was a number written in fine, perfect ink.

And a plan already in motion.

...

Late that evening Rhina is in her apartment, and the lights dimmed low. Rhina sat at her small kitchen table, the usual calmness of her evening routine swirling in the air. A soft cup of tea rested between her hands, steam curling up like fleeting thoughts. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. The weight of the day, the news of Stanley’s impending fatherhood, the unexpected visitor she had and the fragile new bond between them had left her heart torn in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

But she was starting to like the silence, it felt good. Felt safe.

That is until her phone buzzed on the table.

She glanced at the screen, an unfamiliar number lighting up the dark room.

Curiosity gnawed at her, and she answered without thinking.

"Hello?"

There was a pause heavy, almost suffocating before the voice on the other end finally spoke.

"Rhina. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?"

Her stomach dropped at the familiarity, her pulse quickening.

"Phillip?"

Another pause. His voice, low and chilling, drifted through the line like smoke. "I didn’t forget about you, Rhina. You know, people think when they lock a man like me away, it’s over. But it’s never over. Not for me. And not for you."

Rhina’s hand tightened around the phone. "What do you want?"

Phillip chuckled, a dark, hollow sound. "I want your help, Rhina. You were always good at getting things done, weren’t you? I need someone on the outside to make sure certain... loose ends stay tied up and well keeps running."

Her breath caught in her throat, but she held her ground. "I’m not involved in your games anymore, Phillip. I don’t want anything to do with you. With any of this."

"Oh, but you’re already involved," he purred. "See, I’ve made sure of that. People you care about... people you love... are already tangled in my mess. And trust me, Rhina, you wouldn’t want them to get caught in the crossfire, would you? And knowing Stanley’s temper imagine what he will do when he gets to know who you really are,"

Rhina’s heartbeat hammered in her chest, her throat dry. "What do you mean?"

Phillip didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched long, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was thick with danger.

"I’m a man of opportunity, Rhina. And I’ve got a job for you like always. Do it, and I’ll make sure your life, I mean your lie stays... quiet. Refuse, and well... your Stanley will know the truth and you will feel the consequences."

Rhina’s stomach turned, her mind racing. She thought she had escaped this life. She thought she was free from the chains Phillip had wrapped around her in the past. But now, with his voice lacing every word, she realized there was no running from him.

And worse... she thought she could finally be happy with Stanley.

"Why me? I love Stanley," she whispered, fear creeping into her voice.

Phillip laughed again, a sound that sent a cold shiver down her spine. "Because, Rhina, you’re perfect for the job and because you love Stanley he won’t suspect you. You’re still close enough to those who could help me... but far enough to never get caught in the mess yourself. Think of it as a little favor for old time’s sake."

Her pulse thundered in her ears as the weight of his words settled over her like a suffocating fog. She wanted to hang up. She wanted to disconnect and pretend it never happened. But she knew better. He wouldn’t let her go that easily after all he already sent someone to her apartment to relay a message.

"I’ll give you some time to think about it," Phillip continued. "But don’t take too long. This is about your future, Rhina. And I wouldn’t want to see it... burn."

The line went dead.

Rhina sat frozen, staring at the phone in her trembling hand. Her thoughts were a whirlpool of dread and confusion. She had no idea what Phillip wanted from her, but she knew one thing: he wasn’t going to stop until he got it.

The soft buzz of her phone startled her. A message flashed on the screen.

"I will tell you what you need to do, be on standby."

Her mind raced as she stared at the message, realizing that this was just the beginning of something much darker than she ever could have imagined.