The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 143: The sad reality

Bella Anderson’s fingers trembled as she reached for her phone, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She had to tell Ethan. Now. Every second wasted was a second Mara’s son was further away. Every breath Lucy took was one stolen from the truth, she couldn’t let a monster like that in her house and his son’s life.

She had just unlocked her phone when she noticed the eerie silence behind her. A shadow moved in the polished glass reflection of the hallway with the stairs beneath.

She quickly turned to see who it was, but she probably had already take a wide guess, her first instinct was to run but she could take care of this snake all by herself, she will expose her no matter what it took.

"Going somewhere?" Lucy asked coldly, stepping forward with a calm, calculated smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Bella stood her ground. "Don’t come any closer, Lucy. You’ve already done enough. Your lies they all come to an end today. How could you steal a baby from a mother’s arm? what kind of sick monster are you? No snatching a baby from a mother’s womb that’s another level of low,"

But Lucy lunged, she wasn’t afraid there was no need of pretending, her mask had fallen before her and no amount of words could change that but she knew one thing and that was to stop her and keep her mouth shut.

The phone slipped from Bella’s hands and clattered to the floor. The two women struggled, the Bella trying to reach for the phone, Lucy fighting to grab it first. "You will keep your mouth shut if you know what is good for you," she said and, in the shuffle, Bella’s foot missed a step. Her body tilted dangerously backward, and before she could brace herself...

She tumbled.

Down as Lucy watch in shock, that wasn’t the plan at least she had thought.

Step after step, a sickening thud with each one until she hit the marble floor with a crash.

"No!" Lucy whispered in shock, rushing down the stairs, breathing heavily.

Bella lay sprawled at the base, groaning weakly, blood pooling beneath her short curls. She looked up with glassy eyes and her gaze locked with Mr. Anderson Sr., who had come out of his room just in time to see the fall.

His eyes widened in horror, "Oh no this can’t be happening," Lucy thought, she had crossed all the lines and all for Ethan’s sake.

"HELP!" the old man cried, his voice hoarse with age, "Somebody—"

But Lucy was already on him. She moved quickly panic surging through her and covered his mouth before he could shout again. His frail body trembled under her grip as footsteps echoed from the other side of the mansion.

A maid’s voice screamed, "Bella! Madam Bella has fallen!"

Another shout. "Call an ambulance!"

Lucy released Mr. Anderson Sr. and stepped back, wiping her sweaty hands on her blouse. The sound of running feet approached. The house was about to explode into chaos. Lucy was trying to think, but she couldn’t possibly come up with anything. This was bad. So much worse than she could have imagined.

She stood frozen in place watching Mr. Anderson Sr., the chaos around her muffled like distant thunder underwater. Her hands trembled at her sides, though she barely noticed. She didn’t want this, not any of it. Not the drama. Not the mess. Not the heaviness sitting like wet stone on her chest.

All she ever wanted was Ethan.

Just Ethan. That quiet certainty, that simple wish that had once seemed enough to make the world feel right now felt impossibly far.

But nothing was ever simple anymore. Not with the way things kept unraveling, knotting themselves up in ways she couldn’t undo. Every choice led to another complication; every step forward sent a ripple that broke something else. She felt like a child again, helplessly watching a tower of blocks tumble down, knowing she was the one who knocked it over.

Her breath hitched, sharp and shallow. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember how her mother had once taught her to breathe through the panic.

"In through your nose, hold it... let it out slow, like blowing out a candle."

But even that felt impossible now.

Then came the sirens.

The shrill wail pierced the air, getting louder, closer, until it was right outside the house. Paramedics burst through the front doors, their movements brisk, practiced, urgent. A stretcher wheeled in behind them. The thud of boots on marble echoed like gunshots through the hall.

Maids were crying.

Not just sniffling, crying. Full, raw sobs that broke the already-tense air like glass on tile. Valerie was in the office when the call came through, her heart started racing. She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to know. Something inside her folded in. It wasn’t loud but put herself together.

Valerie burst through the emergency doors of the hospital shortly after, her hair disheveled, her eyes wild.

"What happened to her?!" she cried. "Where is my mother?!"

A nurse led her to the emergency wing, where Bella was being stabilized. Valerie turned in disbelief, already dialing.

Ethan.

Her voice cracked the moment he picked up.

"Ethan... it’s Mom. She’s in the hospital. She fell, I don’t know how it happened."

Ethan froze. A chill ran down his spine.

"What! How?" he asked, already grabbing his car keys.

Valerie whispered, "Something’s wrong. I don’t know what yet."

"I’m coming right now," Ethan said leaving without saying goodbye to Mara, he told the nanny something came up so he had to leave.

—

The house was still in chaos. No one noticed that Mr. Anderson Sr. hadn’t been seen since Bella’s fall. No one noticed that Lucy had slipped away in the confusion.

The old man lay bound to his chair in the dim light of his room, his trembling eyes watching the woman pacing in front of him, now unrecognizable in her panic.

Lucy’s mascara was smudged, her hair clinging to her face as she murmured to herself, fingers tangled in her hair. She was unraveling.

"I didn’t mean it. It was an accident," she muttered, rocking slightly. "She slipped... it was the stairs... why did she have to hear that call?"

Mr. Anderson let out a muffled grunt beneath the gag.

Lucy turned to him, her eyes wide. "You believe me, right?" she pleaded, crawling closer. "She’s Ethan’s mother. I wouldn’t hurt her on purpose. She hates me, yes, but I wouldn’t—"

She yanked the cloth from his mouth.

"You murderer," the old man hissed, voice scratchy and strained. "You pushed her. Help! Someone—!"

Before he could yell again, Lucy slapped the cloth back over his mouth, her hands trembling.

"Shut up! Shut up!" she whispered harshly. "You don’t understand!"

She backed away, breath hitching, eyes darting around the room in frantic thought. "Think, Lucy. Please think," she muttered to herself, pacing.

Her gaze landed on the small wooden box near the nightstand Mr. Anderson’s medication.

A switch flipped.

Lucy approached it slowly, lifting the box lid. Her eyes flicked over the label. She read the dosage aloud in a whisper, "One pill, twice a day... side effects include dizziness, confusion... risk of stroke with elevated dosage..."

A slow, wicked smirk spread across her lips.

"Well, Grandpa... it’s time for your medicine."

Mr. Anderson let out a muffled cry, eyes wide with terror as Lucy straddled him, forcing his mouth open.

"Relax," she said sweetly, "It won’t kill you. It’ll just... keep you quiet for a while."

She shoved one pill in. Then another. Then a third.

"Oops," she whispered. "That’s a little more than you need, right?"

She adjusted his body gently, laying him on the bed like nothing had happened. She smoothed his blanket, took off his glasses, and patted his head like a nurse tucking in her patient.

"There. Just a tired old man having a nap," she murmured.

As footsteps echoed from the hall, Lucy tiptoed to the back exit and disappeared into the shadows, the chaos of the house shielding her retreat once more.

The afternoon light filtered gently through the curtains of Mr. Anderson Sr.’s bedroom. Everything looked undisturbed the small table holding a glass of water and his old reading glasses, his blanket pulled up neatly over his chest.

Nurse Edwin, a calm and routine man in his early forties, knocked twice before entering.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson," he called gently, stepping inside. "Just coming to check your vitals and give your afternoon meds."

The old man didn’t respond.

Nurse Edwin smiled, nothing new. Mr. Anderson Sr. had a habit of falling asleep mid-afternoon, especially after reading the paper or listening to classical radio. He leaned over and checked his pulse. It was slow... faint... but it was there.

"Resting deep today, huh?" he whispered.

He didn’t notice the slight dampness around the old man’s mouth or the tremble in his fingers beneath the blanket. He chalked it up to age. Old Mr. Anderson always needed a bit of extra rest after emotional days and with Bella’s fall, it made sense.

Satisfied, the nurse picked up the untouched water glass, refreshed it from the side jug, and placed it back. "I’ll be back in a bit," he murmured, patting the blanket.

With that, he exited the room, gently closing the door behind him.

Down in the staff cabin, a cluster of nurses and domestic staff were already deep in whispering tones.

"Did you hear she fell from the top staircase?" one maid whispered.

"I think it was shock," another replied. "She’d just come from seeing Lucy. You know she never trusted that girl."

"I heard it was an accident," Nurse Edwin chimed in, taking his seat. "Mrs. Bella’s blood pressure was high this morning, could’ve caused dizziness."

"Still," the older housemaid muttered, stirring her tea. "Something doesn’t feel right in this house lately."

There was a pause.

Far above them, behind thick walls and drawn curtains, Mr. Anderson’s eyes fluttered beneath closed lids. His lips parted ever so slightly as if trying to speak. But no one was there to hear.