The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 135: Time to make everyone pay

The prison officer at the desk barely glanced up as Philip stepped into the security office. He walked in like he owned the place. In many ways, he did. With a smirk, he reached for the phone. The officer didn’t stop him he didn’t even look him in the eye.

Philip dialed the number slowly, deliberately.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then: click.

A soft, almost frightened voice answered. "Hello?" Philip leaned back in the chair, voice smooth, casual, but cold as ice.

"It’s time you returned to the country."

A long pause followed.

"Isn’t it too soon?" the voice asked, hesitantly.

"Now is the perfect time, don’t let anyone know you are back," Philip replied. "I’ll help bring your plan into motion. Every piece, every target. But first..."

He leaned forward, fingers curling around the receiver. "You’re going to do something for me."

"What do I have to do?" The voice was smaller now. Young. Nervous. Philip smiled, teeth gleaming under the buzz of overhead lights.

"Just follow everything I tell you. No questions. No fear." He hung up without waiting for a response. He stood slowly, placed the phone down, and turned to the guard, who still refused to meet his gaze.

"I’ll be out of here soon," he said calmly. The guard didn’t answer. Philip walked away without looking back.

As the doors slammed shut behind him, his voice echoed through the walls barely a whisper, but unmistakably clear.

"I’ll see you soon... my nephews. My adorable niece. You, too, ex-wife. All of you..."

He paused. "...will pay."

-----

The house was quiet after the brothers left. One by one, they had come into her room like clockwork each with a kiss on the forehead, a quick joke, or a gentle squeeze of her hand. They left reluctantly, looking back at the door more than once.

Mara felt it the moment the last one was gone.

A shift in the air. A coldness. Something was... off.

She sat up slightly, her hand on her belly. "Ami?" she called voice a light but edged voice with unease.

Footsteps. Not familiar ones.

A woman entered, wearing a nurse’s uniform, face pleasant, smile tight. "Ami had to step out for an emergency," she said smoothly. "I’m filling in for her today. But Dalia’s here too. You can call me Sandra."

Mara blinked. "Dalia? Where is Dalia?" Mara asked requesting her other nurse.

A Dalia appeared in the doorway. "She’s telling the truth," Dalia said, offering a quick nod to the other woman. "We’ve worked together. She’s new but good."

Mara forced a smile, though the gnawing in her stomach refused to settle. Her head felt foggy, like her instincts were trying to scream through cotton. She let herself lean back on the pillows. Maybe it was just her nerves. The substitute nurse approached with a small cup and two pills. "Time for your vitamins," she said.

Mara hesitated. Just a moment. Then she took them.

She swallowed hard, ignoring the metallic taste, and exhaled slowly. "I’m going to the bathroom, Ma’am," Dalia said, stepping out.

The substitute nurse lingered near the bed, too close, too still. Mara’s phone buzzed.

Ethan. Her face softened. She answered with a tired smile. "Hey..."

"You okay?" Ethan asked gently. "You sound... different."

"I’m alright," she said, though she had to force the words. "Just tired. I think the baby’s doing cartwheels."

They laughed together. A soft, warm sound filled the space for a moment.

But then Mara’s face tensed. Her hand pressed harder to her side.

A sharp jolt of pain cut through her belly. Not a kick. Not the usual discomfort.

A burning.

She sucked in a breath.

"You sure you’re okay?" Ethan asked again, concern rising in his voice.

Mara nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. "It’s just... pregnancy things. I’ll call you later, okay?"

"Mara—"

She ended the call and clutched the sheets with one hand, the other rubbing slow circles on her stomach. Her breathing grew shallow.

The nurse turned away, seemingly busying herself with something on the side table. Her hand drifted to Mara’s phone. Quietly, she picked it up, glanced at the screen...

And powered it off.

Slipped it into the drawer beside the bed.

Mara didn’t notice she was too focused on trying to steady herself. Her vision blurred. Her heart was racing.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, alarm bells were screaming. But it was already too late.

Mara’s voice trembled as she clutched her belly, sweat beading on her forehead.

"Call my brother," she gasped, her voice laced with panic. "Call Stefan. Now."

The nurse nodded calmly and lifted the phone to her ear.

A beat of silence passed.

"He’s not answering," she said flatly.

Mara’s breath caught in her throat. "Then call Steve. Or Stanley. Or Stanford. Anyone."

Another pause. The nurse looked down at the phone again, shook her head slowly. "None of them are answering, ma’am."

That’s when the chill settled in Mara’s bones.

Not one of them would ever ignore her call. Not like this.

Her breath quickened. "Then get Dalia. Or my nanny, now. I need to go to the hospital. Something’s wrong. The pain...it’s not normal—"

"You’re in forced labor," the nurse interrupted sharply, her voice losing all pretense of care. "You’ll be fine. I’ve paged the doctor."

But the doctor never came.

Instead, the nurse rolled up her sleeves and forced Mara to lie back, her grip firm, too firm.

Mara whimpered, fear climbing her throat as the nurse spread her legs and checked. "The baby’s crowning," she announced coldly. "You need to push."

"No, wait...I didn’t feel this coming, this isn’t right what did you do to me?" Mara cried, the panic cracking her voice.

But there was no answer.

Only a slap to her thigh. "Push!"

Mara screamed. Every nerve in her body was on fire. Her muscles betrayed her, clenching and contracting under the drugs coursing through her system. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Not like this. Not here.

"Push, or your baby dies," the woman hissed.

Tears blurred Mara’s vision. Her hands searched the air for something, someone. Her body was numb with fear, but her will refused to break.

She pushed.

Again.

And again.

Until—

A faint, wobbly cry pierced the air.

Then silence.

Mara’s eyes rolled back, her strength draining in an instant.

She reached out weakly. "My baby... let me see..."

But the cry faded.

The woman moved fast, too fast, and then

Nothing.

Everything went blurry.

Dark.

Like the world was pulling her under. Mara’s last thought before slipping into unconsciousness was the terrifying silence where her baby’s cries should’ve been.

Everything inside her burned.

Her vision was smeared with tears, her body on the brink of collapse, but Mara forced herself to stay awake. She had to she wasn’t done yet.

There was still another baby inside her.

The room was suffocating. Silent. It felt like the entire house had been swallowed into a vacuum, like everyone who had once filled it with warmth and laughter had suddenly vanished.

She was alone. Alone with her pain. Alone with the betrayal.

But she would not let her baby die.

"Come on... come on..." she whispered through clenched teeth, tears streaking down her face.

Her legs trembled, spread wide, her muscles seizing but she pushed.

No one held her hand.

No one wiped the sweat from her brow.

But Mara screamed a sound so fierce, so full of life and agony, it cut through the stillness like lightning.

Far at the estate entrance, Ethan, uneasy after their earlier call, turned his car toward the house. Something felt wrong. Too wrong. On instinct, he called Stefan.

"I’m going over," Ethan said quickly. "She didn’t sound right—"

"I’ll meet you there," Stefan replied without hesitation.

They arrived together, just as the guardhouse radioed in chaos.

A nurse, Sandra, was walking away from the gates, holding a heavy black duffle. She waved the guards toward the house.

"The boss is in labor!" she shouted, breathless. "She needs help now!" The guards didn’t question her. They ran. Sandra slipped past the hedges and vanished into the trees.

But when the guards reached the mansion, they stopped cold.

Bodies. Not dead but asleep. Scattered across the floor.

The entire household staff was drugged. The guards split up, calling out, shaking them awake, heart rates rising. Ethan and Stefan stepped into the scene, "Mara!" "Stef!"

Their blood ran cold. Then, from somewhere inside the house, a scream.

A scream so raw, so full of pain and fury, that both Ethan and Stefan didn’t hesitate.

They ran. Up the stairs, through the halls, following the sound of her voice.

"MARA!" Ethan shouted, nearly knocking over a vase as they reached her door.

Another scream, louder, closer

Then silence.

They burst into the room—

And stopped.

Mara was in the center of the bed, soaked in sweat and blood, her body trembling violently. Her legs were still spread, her hands gripping the sheets, her lips parted as she gasped for breath.

Her eyes locked on them.

"She took my baby," she whispered hoarsely, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Help me...please help me get my baby out."