Billionaire Redemption

Chapter 20

LEON'S POV

•

•

•

She was shivering—violently.

The closer I stepped toward the bed, the worse it got. Her breathing quickened, her limbs trembled, her eyes wide and glassy like she was trapped in some far-off nightmare.

My name barely escaped her lips moments ago, but now she didn’t even seem to know I was here.

As I reached her side, she panicked. Fingers trembling, she yanked out her IV, tearing off the wires and tubes connected to her. Blood dotted the back of her hand. I moved forward instinctively, but she bolted—at least, she tried to.

Her legs, weak and unsteady from three months of being comatose, gave out almost instantly. She fell hard against the cold floor, curling into herself like a terrified child.

I stood there for a moment, frozen.

“Dad… please,” she cried, her voice breaking. “It’s Marla, not me. I didn’t bring the used condom… don’t sell me, please…”

Her words sliced deeper than I expected.

I swallowed, jaw clenched, fury rising in me like a storm. What the hell had she gone through?

She mumbled again—barely a whisper, but I heard it.

“Leon Kael… please save me.”

My fists balled at my sides. I closed my eyes and let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to calm the whirlwind building inside me. Then I stepped forward, gently scooping her up in my arms and laying her back on the bed with more care than I thought I had in me.

I pressed the nurse call button.

A nurse rushed in and gasped, then ran out. Moments later, she returned with a doctor. They checked her vitals, asked me a few questions I barely processed, and finally turned to me.

“She’s stable,” the doctor said, serious. “But there’s no doubt she’s been through prolonged abuse. If the trauma flashbacks continue, she’ll need therapy. For now, she should stay far away from anything or anyone linked to that past.”

I gave a silent nod, and they left the room.

I sank into the chair beside her bed.

She looked fragile. Too young to have endured what I just witnessed. Her breathing had slowed, but it was uneven. Her fingers twitched lightly. Her body still flinched every few seconds—like her nightmares wouldn’t leave her alone, even now.

I leaned forward and gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I will save you,” I whispered.

I stood, took a photo of her, and walked out of the room.

Outside, I pulled out my phone and made a call. It connected instantly.

“I’m sending you a photo,” I said coldly. “I want full details of her. Everything. Two hour.”

Call ended.

I walked into my suite, stripped off my clothes, and stepped into the shower. The cold water hit my skin, grounding me. But my eyes caught something in the mirror—faint, but still there. A thin scar running across the side of my neck.

“Please… don’t.”

The memory came rushing back.

The pleading. The betrayal. The slice of a blade across my neck.

I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled, fists against the shower wall. Her voice echoed in my head again.

*Leon Kael… please save me.*

Her own father sold her… over a used condom?

Fxcking bastard.

**

One hour later

•

•

I stepped out of the shower, dragging a towel across my face and shoulders, steam still clinging to the air like ghosts that refused to leave. My body ached, not from pain, but from weight.

A weight I couldn’t shake off—her words, her screams, the things she mumbled before she fainted. They haunted me like a shadow stitched to my spine.

I threw on a pair of dark shorts, not bothering with a shirt. The night air was cool, but I needed to feel something real against my skin. I slid the balcony door open and stepped out into the quiet.

The city lights below flickered like stars scattered on concrete, distant and cold. I reached into the drawer by the rail and pulled out a cigarette. Lit it. Inhaled.

The first drag burned, but it grounded me.

One hand on the railing, the other balancing the cigarette between my fingers, I stared into nothing. Everything inside me was chaos, but I’d mastered the art of looking composed. Calm. Emotionless.

Then movement caught my eye.

A car.

My eyes followed the sleek black SUV as it pulled into the driveway below. The engine cut. The door opened. And there he was—Ezran.

I exhaled slowly, the smoke swirling around my head like fog.

Of course it had to be him. I ran a hand through my damp hair, already regretting the silence that wouldn’t last. He’d never let things rest.

I crushed the cigarette against the tray beside me, watching the ember die like it owed me something. My hand went to my pocket. I pulled out my phone. Sure enough, his name lit up.

I answered.

"Why are you here?" My voice was low, but sharp.

Ezran stepped out fully and looked up, his eyes meeting mine with all the judgment he never bothered to hide.

"In your study," he said flatly. "You’ve got some talking to do."

I scoffed quietly. Classic Ezran—cutthroat and blunt when he want to.

He looked away, disappearing into the house without waiting for a response.

I gritted my teeth. "Ezran, I’m not in the mood for talking—" I tried, but the line had already gone dead.

Figures.

I dropped my hand to my side and stared out into the distance again. The wind shifted, brushing against my bare skin, but it did nothing to ease the heat rising in my chest. I hated being pushed. Hated being cornered.

But most of all—I hated how helpless I felt the moment she muttered my name like it was the last thing tethering her to life.

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to ground myself again. Then I turned, stepped back inside, and shut the balcony door with a soft thud.

Time to face Ezran.

I sighed, rubbing a hand down my face.

I grabbed a robe and threw it on, leaving it untied. No point pretending to be composed for Ezran. He wasn’t someone easily impressed.

Maybe that’s why I chose him afterall.

The hallway felt colder as I walked down. As I reached the door to my study, I pushed it open—

A fist came flying toward my face.

I tilted my head to the side and swerved it cleanly, almost out of instinct. Years of combat training weren’t just for show. I didn’t flinch, didn’t raise my voice. Just walked past him calmly and sank into the armchair like I owned the air in the room.

I gave him a look—cold, bored.

"What are you doing here?" I asked flatly, brushing invisible lint off my thigh.

He was glaring at me like I owed him blood.

"Kael, you didn’t bother stepping foot in Phoenicia for three damn months!" he snapped. "You walked away from everything. Just like that."

I didn’t say anything.

Ezran paced a step, throwing his hands out. "And for what? Because you hit a girl on the road? You brought her into your mansion. Treated her. Sat by her bedside. What happened to you? What happened to the Leon Kael with a literal phobia of being touched by women? The one who couldn’t even sit in the same room with a woman for more than two minutes without losing it?"

I closed my eyes briefly, leaning back.

"Nothing," I muttered. "That’s the thing. Nothing happened."

He stilled.

"When I touched her… nothing snapped inside. No panic, no flashes, no attacks. I didn’t even realize it at first. Until you just said it now."

I didn’t understand it either. I hadn’t questioned it. I’d been too focused on keeping her alive.

I pressed the small bell beside my chair. A soft chime echoed.

A maid walked in quietly, eyes lowered.

I stood slowly and approached her.

Ezran watched with narrowed eyes.

I reached out and placed my hand gently on her shoulder.

It hit me instantly—like lightning.