One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 151: Chapter 151

The silence in the bedroom was unbearable.
It clung to the walls like humidity after a storm—thick, suffocating, and full of tension. The ocean roared faintly beyond the villa walls, but its rhythm felt accusatory now, like a heartbeat hammering too loud inside a body trying not to fall apart.
Arielle sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, knuckles white from pressure. Damien stood at the far end of the room, by the window, as if distance could soften what had already been said.
She hadn’t screamed.
She hadn’t wept.
But she had trembled—violently.
“What do you want me to say?” Damien finally asked, his voice hoarse, tired.
She didn’t look at him. “I want the truth. All of it. I don’t care how much it hurts anymore. I just want to know who the hell I married.”
Damien stepped closer, slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. “You know who I am.”
“I thought I did,” she snapped, finally looking up. Her eyes were dark pools of betrayal. “Until a woman knocked on our door with your eight-year-old son.”
“I didn’t know about him, Arielle.”
“Then tell me about her.”
He inhaled shakily, then sat in the armchair across from her, elbows on knees. “Luciana and I... we had a brief thing. Nine years ago. It wasn’t serious. I was in a dark place. My father had just passed, I was spiraling. She was—”
“Convenient?” Arielle’s voice cracked like glass.
“No,” he said quickly. “She was... a distraction. I didn’t care about myself, let alone her. I ghosted. I didn’t know she got pregnant. I swear it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it felt like another life. Like something dead and buried. Until today, I hadn’t heard from her in years.”
“But you said her name on the phone. You’ve been talking.”
He nodded reluctantly. “She first reached out two months ago. Sent an email to my company. I ignored it. Then she found my personal line. I told her to stop. That I had a family. I didn’t think it was real—until she showed up.”
Arielle stood, arms wrapped around herself. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know? That I should’ve had a say?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
She turned on him. “Don’t you dare use that excuse. I’m not fragile. I’m your wife. I’ve bled for this family. I’ve nearly died for this family. And you thought I couldn’t handle the truth?”
Damien stood too, guilt etched into every line of his face. “I was afraid. Of losing you. Of tainting what we had.”
Tears burned down her cheeks, hot and silent.
“You already did,” she whispered.
He closed the distance, gently reaching for her hand, but she stepped back.
“I don’t even know what hurts more,” she said. “That you kept it from me. Or that... somewhere out there, our children have a brother they’ve never met. And I’m supposed to just carry that like it’s normal?”
Damien’s voice broke. “I’m sorry, Arielle. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear on everything, I never cheated on you. Not once.”
She looked at him then, really looked. The man who held her through postpartum nights. Who had washed her body when she couldn’t. Who had kissed every scar. He looked as wrecked as she felt.
But trust wasn’t just love. It was truth.
“I need space,” she said, her voice a soft fracture. “Not forever. But right now... I can’t breathe in the same room with you.”
Damien nodded slowly, tears shimmering in his own eyes.
“I’ll sleep in the guest room.”
She turned away as he walked out.
When the door clicked shut, the tears came. Violent, full-bodied sobs. She fell to her knees beside the bed, burying her face in the sheets, shaking from the inside out.
The web had been spun.
Not by Luciana.
Not by lies alone.
But by silence, fear, and the fragile
threads of things left unsaid.
And now, every breath felt like unraveling.