The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 158: You will pay

Caleb pounded into her with a force that matched the storm brewing inside both of them: anger, lust, confusion. Each thrust was a release, but not relief. Lucy bit her lip, trying not to cry out too loudly, even though her body betrayed her, clenching around him, soaking wet, desperate to feel something that would make the ache inside go away.

Celeb leaned over her again, his breath hot on her neck. "You feel even better when you’re upset," he growled. "It’s like your body’s honest even when you’re not."

She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her mind was screaming Ethan’s name, but her lips only parted to moan.

He gripped her tighter, slamming into her until her legs trembled and her hands clawed the sofa for balance. When they both finally came, it was quick and rough, like everything between them, no sweetness, no afterglow. Just emptiness in the silence that followed.

Caleb pulled out with a grunt and flopped onto the couch, dragging a hand through his hair.

Lucy stayed bent over for a moment, catching her breath, trying to gather herself.

"You can shower if you want," she said quietly, not turning around.

He didn’t move. "I hope you are on pills, I didn’t use protection."

She laughed, bitter and hollow. "As if I have a womb."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Celeb asked, his voice low, a thread of something unspoken beneath it. He was already living under the quiet illusion that baby Andrew might be his.

No one had told him so, but in his heart, the idea had taken root. And the last time he caught a glimpse of the child... those big curious eyes, that soft curl of hair, something in him shifted.

He had wished, just for a second, that he could call him his own. And now, that wish had settled inside him. Unshakable.

Lucy looked away, her expression unreadable. "I won’t get pregnant," she said quietly. "If that’s what you’re worried about." There was something about the way she said it. Flat. Final. Carefully measured. She wasn’t just offering reassurance, she was hiding something.

He could feel it. But he didn’t press her. Not yet. Maybe because deep down, he knew she didn’t trust him. Not fully. Not with this. So they sat there, in silence. The room felt smaller now. Heavier. Thick with all the things they weren’t saying. All the truths neither of them could afford to admit.

She grabbed a robe, wrapping it around herself like armor. The tears came only after she turned away, quiet, stubborn tears that burned down her cheeks.

"You’re still in love with him," Caleb said without looking at her.

She didn’t deny it.

And that hurt more than anything. "Maybe..." Caleb’s voice broke through the silence, soft but certain. "Maybe you and Andrew could come live with me. You don’t need Ethan."

He wasn’t even looking at her. Just staring ahead, speaking more to the room than to her. Like he was finally admitting something he’d buried for too long. Lucy opened her mouth to respond. But before a single word could form—

BANG.

The apartment door slammed open with a force that shook the walls.

And just like that, the moment shattered. Lucy’s heart stopped.

Ethan stood there, rage in his eyes, waving a stack of custody papers like a weapon. "You really thought you could play me?" he barked. "After what you did to my mother? My grandfather?"

Lucy froze. "I didn’t—"

"Don’t lie to me!" Ethan shouted. "You want full custody? Then get ready for war. I’m ordering a maternity test. Let’s find out if you’re even Andrew’s mother."

A breath caught in her throat. The past was catching up. All of it. Her mistakes. Her sins.

Before she could speak again, Caleb appeared behind her. Ethan’s eyes narrowed. "Of course. He’s here. Was this all part of it?"

"See who came to visit," Caleb muttered, stepping forward with a flash of something in his hand.

"Caleb, don’t—" Lucy started, too late.

The needle jabbed into Ethan’s neck.

"What the hell—" Ethan choked, stumbling back.

"What have you done?" Lucy cried, rushing to Ethan’s side as he hit the ground.

"He’ll live," Caleb said coolly. "It’s just something to knock him out... and to stir him up a little. He’ll wake up wanting you. Wanting release."

"You drugged him," she whispered, horrified.

"Yes," Caleb admitted. "Because if he’s distracted, he’ll stop investigating you and our son."

Lucy stared at him, stunned, more so by his referring to Andrew as his son. "Why are you helping me?" "I don’t know," Caleb said. "Maybe because I hate him so much, I want to see him suffer."

He pulled off Ethan’s jacket and lifted him onto the bed.

Lucy stood, trembling. "Tie him up." Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I want him to see what he’s missing. To see me and know I’m better than Mara in all ways, even in bed."

Caleb hesitated. "Even drugged, he won’t touch you. He won’t break. You’ve tried that."

"I know," she whispered. "But let him hear it. Let him feel what I sound like."

Caleb stared at her, then nodded slowly. He tied Ethan’s wrists to the bedposts while Lucy slipped off her robe.

The drugs stirred in Ethan’s veins. His eyes fluttered, breath was shallow. Not fully conscious but aware enough to hear the moans, the heat, the wet sounds of Lucy riding someone else right beside him.

His fists clenched.

His body reacted.

And in that twisted moment, Lucy felt powerful, for once.

The sound hit Ethan first, wet, rhythmic, raw. Moans tangled with sharp breaths and skin slapping skin. His body stirred before his mind caught up.

His eyes blinked open slowly. The ceiling above him swam in and out of focus. His arms were tied. Ankles, too. A faint, aching heat pulsed in his groin, and he groaned, head rolling to the side.

Lucy.

She was straddling Caleb, back arched, hands braced on his chest, riding him like she needed to feel everything all at once. Her hair stuck to her skin. Her lips parted as a broken cry escaped.

Ethan’s chest heaved.

This couldn’t be real. Not that he cared much at all. But the truth crept in, he had been drugged.

And through the haze clouding his mind, what shocked him wasn’t just the drug.

It was how far Lucy was willing to go. He watched, helpless, as she had sex with Caleb in his presence. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate.

She did it right in front of him. As if it were a game. As if he wasn’t even there.

Did she think he’d join them? That he’d lose his mind and beg her to fuck him? Beg her to help him find release?

That’s when it hit him. She was sick. Not just hurt. Not just angry. Truly... sick in the head.

And maybe—just maybe—he should’ve seen it sooner. Maybe if he had paid closer attention to the warning signs, he would have known.

But instead... he missed it. And by missing it, he has lost something far greater. Lost the gift the heavens had handed him. Mara.

"What the f—" he slurred, struggling against the restraints.

Lucy turned her head. Her face flickered somewhere between revenge and challenge.

"You’re awake," she said softly.

"What the hell is this?" Ethan growled, voice thick. "Let me go."

"Why?" Caleb said lazily from beneath her. "Don’t you like the scene? Come on, be honest? Many will pay billions for a show like this."

"You drugged me," Ethan spat, yanking at the restraints. "You—you twisted sick moran!"

Lucy climbed off Caleb slowly, her body trembling not from climax, but from the surge of adrenaline and guilt rising in her chest.

"You said I made a mistake sending those papers," she said quietly, walking toward the bed. "You were right. I made a lot of mistakes. But don’t pretend you’re innocent in this."

"I didn’t tie you down," Ethan hissed. "But you did this?"

"You came here accusing me of murder," she snapped. "You’re digging into things you don’t understand. And if you take Andrew, you’ll destroy the only part of me that’s still human."

Caleb got off the couch, pulling on his pants slowly, eyes locked on Ethan.

"I bet your blood is boiling right now."

Caleb’s tone was cool—too cool. Like a knife dipped in honey. His eyes gleamed with something dark, something sharp.

"I must say... I admire how you’re holding up." He leaned forward slightly, just enough to press the edge. "And tell me... who do you think you are—to take Andrew away?" His voice wasn’t raised. But the words cut. Exactly as he meant them to.

He could barely contain the satisfaction rising in his chest. He had waited for this. Planned for it. The moment he could finally rip the illusion apart. To let him know the boy he had loved, the one he had called son for over a year, was never his. Andrew was his.

Caleb thinks he is the real father. And he was seconds away from saying it. From watching it destroy him. But before he could open his mouth, Lucy stepped between them.

Her hand gripped his arm, firm. Her eyes locked onto his with a silent plea. "Don’t," she whispered. It was fear in her voice. It was control. Desperation masked in calm.

He froze.