The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 155: The Diamond cage

Lucy adjusted the ridiculous costume, glitter on her arms, her heart pounding so loudly she could barely breathe. A bouncer shoved her gently toward the velvet curtain.

"Client’s waiting. No drama. You get paid to smile, not scream." She stepped in... then stopped.

Sitting on the plush lounge chair, legs crossed, gold rings on his fingers, and his shirt half-unbuttoned... was Celeb

Of all people.

--

He looked up lazily from his drink... then froze.

"Lucy?" Her face drained of color. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

He tilted his head, smirking. "Wow. I knew you liked drama, but this? This is low-budget even for you." Lucy swallowed hard, unable to move.

"You here for fun or blackmail?" Celeb asked, swirling his drink. "Because you know I like my women twisted, but this... this is something else."

"Shut up," Lucy hissed, her shame boiling to the surface.

"What happened, Lucy?" he said softly now, with a mockery of concern. "Ethan finally threw you out? Where is our son?"

She turned to leave, but Celeb stood and caught her wrist.

His smirk was gone.

"You messed with a lot of people. But now you’re in my world." He leaned in, voice like velvet over blades. "And here, Lucy, I decide who walks out."

Celeb’s fingers were still wrapped around Lucy’s wrist. Not hard... but firm. Possessive.

"You used to walk into rooms like you owned them," he murmured. "Now look at you. Stripped down, desperate, humiliated... I can’t lie — it’s kind of hot."

Lucy yanked her wrist free, glaring at him.

"Go to hell, Celeb."

"Been there," he replied, settling back into the leather seat, legs stretched, that signature cocky grin returning. "You left the door wide open."

There was a long silence.

"So what now?" she asked bitterly. "Are you going to humiliate me more? Make me dance for you like some circus act?"

He sipped his drink. Then gestured at the seat across from him.

"Actually, I was thinking dinner. Something classy. Red wine, candlelight. Just like old times."

Lucy narrowed her eyes. "What are you playing at?"

"Nothing," he said with mock innocence. "I just miss the chaos we used to cause. You were delicious when you were dangerous."

"I’m not yours to play with."

"Aren’t you though?" He leaned forward now, voice darker. "You cost me my chance with Stefania, remember, and I helped you have Ethan, well at least for a year. And now... the universe drops you right into my lap. Practically gift-wrapped. I think I’ve earned a few nights of fun, don’t you?"

Lucy’s lips parted, speechless.

Part of her wanted to slap him. Another part wanted to melt into the way he looked at her, with fire and wicked memory.

"So what, I play your pet until you’re bored?"

"No, Lucy." His voice dipped low. "You play my sex partner again. We had something, didn’t we? You and I, we were unstoppable. Beautiful. Deadly. Messy. I want that back."

She stared at him, her heartbeat racing.

"And if I say no?"

"Then you can go back out there and dance for drug lords and creeps until they chew you up. Or..." he stood and gently lifted her chin, "You let me show you how much more fun it is being my exclusive."

After a long thought, she agreed after all, it was better to play Celeb than Dano, the mafia boss.

LATER THAT NIGHT – PENTHOUSE SUITE

Lucy sat in silk robes, sipping wine by the window, still dazed. Celeb had bought her out of the club for the night, handed the mafia boss a stack of bills, and whisked her off to the penthouse like it was nothing.

He hadn’t touched her. Not yet. But the tension was electric. He walked out of the bedroom now, shirt off, towel around his neck, and that stupid, smug grin on his face.

"I know that look," he said, sitting beside her. "You’re wondering if I’m going to ruin you again." She didn’t answer.

He leaned in close, breath brushing her ear.

"I might," he whispered. "But you’ll beg for more."

The city lights shimmered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow on the two figures locked in quiet tension.

Lucy turned her head slowly, meeting Celeb’s smoldering gaze. She smiled, soft, coy, just how he used to like it.

"You think I don’t know what you’re doing?" she purred, swirling her wine glass.

"Doing what?" he smirked. "Treating you better than the rats downstairs?"

She rose from her chair, walking toward him with the same feline grace that once made men crawl. Her fingers slid up his chest, stopping at the base of his throat.

"You want to ask?" she whispered. "Make me fall for you."

Celeb’s expression shifted, just slightly. The playful gleam flickered, replaced for a split second with something unsure.

She was in.

"You remember how good I was?" she asked, voice low. "The way you looked at me after that night, when we first got together. You said you’d never met anyone who much with your energy."

He chuckled, his hand sliding to her waist. "I meant that."

"Then prove it," she breathed. "Let me be at your beck and call. Not for a night but whenever and wherever you want, in return, you treat me as your partner. Your queen."

Celeb kissed her, hard, claiming, testing, wanting.

And Lucy? She kissed him back with fire and false devotion.

Lucy splashed cold water on her face, staring into the mirror. Her lip was swollen from his kiss, her skin warm where he’d touched her.

But her eyes?

Steely. Calculated.

"You want to play, Celeb?" she whispered to her reflection. "Then let’s play. You can have my body. I will use your money to get my revange."

She smirked, wiping her lip, fixing her hair. Lucy was back. And this time? She was going to bring down Ethan, Mara, and maybe even Celeb all in one beautifully orchestrated finale.

—

The late sun filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across Ethan’s desk. He was reviewing some documents half-heartedly, trying to shake off the haunting memory of his last trial, when the doorbell rang.

"Sir," his butler said moments later, "there’s a courier here with something urgent."

Ethan took the envelope, eyes narrowing at the legal stamp on it.

"From the family court," the butler added before retreating.

Ethan tore the seal and began to read, and with every line, the blood drained from his face.

"Petitioner: Lucy.

Request: Full custody of Andrew Ethan Anderson.

Grounds: Alleged emotional neglect, unresolved trauma, and unsafe environment."

He stared at the paper, stunned. Lucy was suing him for full custody?

"Unbelievable," he muttered, slamming the document onto the desk. His hands trembled with rage.

She had no money. No home. No stability. And still, she dared to file for custody?

He paced the room like a lion in a cage.

"She wants a war? Fine." He grabbed his phone and dialed his assistant. "I want everything we have on Lucy. Background checks, psychiatric evaluations, the club incident, all of it. If she thinks she’s going to take my son from me, she’s out of her damn mind."

ETHAN’S STUDY – LATE EVENING

The call ended.

"Yes, sir," Steph had said before the line went dead. The house fell silent, save for the ticking of the antique wall clock.

Ethan stood still for a moment, then moved to the far corner of his study. He pressed his thumb against the scanner. A soft click followed as the hidden panel on the wall slid open, revealing his personal safe.

He didn’t want anyone to see what he was about to lock away.

But just as he reached inside with the envelope, his fingers brushed against a thin folder wedged in the back, something he hadn’t noticed in a long time.

Curious, he pulled it out.

The word "Autopsy Report" was stamped across the front in bold red.

He blinked. His heartbeat slowed.

Grandfather’s autopsy? He had requested it a year ago... why hadn’t he read it? Had it gotten lost in the chaos? With Mara gone... Andrew was born... and—

His hands trembled slightly as he opened the folder.

Line by line, the report painted a horrifying picture.

Cause of death: overdose.Induced cardiac arrest.Toxic substances in the bloodstream are inconsistent with prescribed medication.

His grandfather had been murdered.

Ethan sat down heavily, the pages fluttering in his grip.

He was killed.

And on the very same day... his mother had "fallen" down the stairs. The fall that left her unable to speak.

It couldn’t be a coincidence.

It wasn’t a coincidence.

His mother might’ve seen something. Heard something. And then he was silenced. His grandfather must have found out. And paid the price.

One name swirled in his head like poison:

Lucy.

"What have you done?" Ethan muttered, his jaw tightening.

If Lucy had anything to do with this... she wasn’t just manipulative. She is a murderer.

AIRPORT – NEXT MORNING

Ethan stood near the terminal gates, one hand on baby Andrew’s stroller, the other holding a small carry-on. His mother, pale and frail, was seated beside the nanny. The therapist’s team waited patiently near the exit.

He had made arrangements for her to get treatment overseas somewhere quiet, discreet, where she could get the help she deserved. Maybe there, she could recover her speech. Maybe she could finally tell him what she saw.

As the flight was called, he leaned down, brushing a kiss on her cheek.

"You’re going to be okay, Mom," he whispered. "And I’ll get justice. I promise you."

He stood tall as they wheeled her away, Andrew babbling in his stroller, unaware of the storm building around him.

But Ethan was no longer a man distracted by grief.

He was focused.

And if Lucy was behind this, she’d finally learn the monster he could.