Billionaire Redemption

Chapter 24

Ayra’s POV

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*Ayra’s POV*

My head throbbed—dull at first, then growing louder with each passing second like a drum pounding from the inside. I winced, bringing a hand to my temple and rubbing it slowly, trying to ease the ache.

A heavy yawn escaped me as I stretched my arms out. My joints cracked a little. I blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the soft lighting in the room.

Then it hit me.

*I fainted.*

My body went stiff as the memory rushed back—darkness, fear, the strange room, and then… him. A man. Footsteps. Light. Then nothing.

I shot a look around me, eyes darting across the space.

Same unfamiliar room.

Same soft bedsheets. Tall windows. High ceilings.

Still here.

I let out a shaky breath of relief.

I wasn’t thrown out.

Or sold off.

Yet.

Then came a voice that froze every inch of me.

*“Welcome back to the living, Miss Ayra.”*

My heart dropped.

I snapped my head around, eyes wide, breath caught in my throat.

And there he was.

Sitting casually at the far end of the room, one leg crossed over the other, a sleek black tablet in his hand. His eyes stayed glued to the screen, not even looking at me.

But I knew that voice.

That calm, mocking voice.

“W-Who are you?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper, throat dry with disbelief.

I wasn’t ready to believe it.

I *couldn’t* believe it.

That the man who’d saved me... might actually be *Leon Kael.*

He finally looked up.

And just like that — time froze.

Sharp jawline, glacial blue eyes that sliced right through me, lips that curled in amusement. His gaze locked with mine and it was as if my lungs forgot how to work.

“Don’t cough out this time,” he said with a light chuckle, voice deep, teasing, haunting.

I started panting, heart racing.

This had to be a dream.

Or an illusion.

*It has to be.*

I stood from the bed slowly, my legs shaking as I took a step forward. My hands clenched into fists by my side.

“It’s… it’s all an illusion, right?” I whispered, voice barely steady.

He raised a brow, still amused. “You wanna check?”

His smirk sent a chill down my spine.

I shook my head, biting my lip. “I—I’m not worthy of seeing someone like Leon Kael… this isn’t real. It can’t be.”

But then his smirk dropped.

His eyes darkened, and the shift in his expression made me take a fearful step back. The tension in the room spiked. The way he stared at me… it wasn’t something my imagination could create.

I pinched myself.

Hard.

Still there.

Still him.

He stood.

And I panicked.

I stepped forward again, chest rising and falling fast. My breath came out uneven. My palms were sweaty as I reached out with both hands and grabbed his. Warm. Firm. Real.

I looked up.

*He was still there.*

Still looking down at me.

Still Leon Kael.

I gasped and immediately jumped back, stumbling slightly.

This wasn’t an illusion.

He was real.

And I was living under the same roof as Leon freaking Kael.

**

I’ve been quiet ever since I found out Leon Kael was the one who saved me. Even now, sitting beside him at the dining table, I couldn’t bring myself to speak. My eyes drifted to the steaming plate of food in front of me, then to him—calm, collected, and unreadable.

The memory of earlier flashed in my head and I almost choked on my own breath. I had shouted “Christ! when I remained rooted to the spot in my room after punching him.

He’d simply told me, in his usual emotionless tone, that he was tired of me staying indoors and that we were going out to eat. I had declined—politely, gently—but the next thing I knew, he had flung me over his shoulder like a bag of tomatoes.

I had screamed again, louder. My whole body had burned with embarrassment.

Leon Kael had carried me.

The shock on the maids’ faces when he dropped me off in the dining had sent a shiver down my spine. Were they surprised because he touched a nobody like me, or was there something else I didn’t know?

I sighed, mumbling under my breath, “Dundee… even I’m shocked he carried me, so of course they would be.”

His brow arched suddenly. “Why mumble when I can still hear you?” he said, eyes still focused on his plate.

My eyes shot to him, wide. He hadn’t even looked at me—how did he hear that?

I shrugged it off and finally picked up a morsel of food, but the question I’d been dodging since pressed hard on my chest.

Why had he brought me to his house after hitting me? Why not leave me in a hospital like a normal stranger? Could it be that… he already knew what I was going through?

I glanced at him again, mouth parting as if I wanted to ask, but the words caught in my throat. I found myself staring at the way his temple moved with every bite, how his skin glowed even under the dim lights, how expressionless his face was—like a blank door.

A ridiculously pretty door.

I mentally slapped myself for thinking that, then smiled stupidly at my own foolishness. I played with the morsel in my hand, still grinning like a child, and slowly brought it to my mouth, still watching him.

That was when he said, without looking up, “Do you always smile like a fool, or is something on my face?”

I choked instantly.

A light chuckle sounded behind me—probably from one of the maids standing in the background.

Mortified, I shut my eyes tight and buried my face in my plate, wishing the earth would just swallow me whole.

Then Leon’s voice came again, low and sharp. “Who did it?”

My head jerked up.

I stared at him, confused. My mouth parted, ready to say something—anything—but he beat me to it.

“If none of you would say who just laughed at what I said,” he said, his tone calm yet razor-sharp, “then you’re all fired. Out.”

My eyes widened instantly.

I turned to look at the maids standing behind me—stiff, heads lowered—but suddenly, in a flurry of fear, they pushed one of them forward. She stumbled a little, then dropped to her knees, trembling.

“Please, sir… I’m sorry. Please, don’t fire me,” she pleaded, voice shaking, eyes brimming with tears.

He didn’t even glance her way. He just continued eating like nothing happened.

Then he looked up slightly and said, “Salt.”

A maid rushed forward, handing over the salt to a guard in the door way of the dining like her life depended on it.

Then the guard came to give him which made my brow shoot up. Why can’t she give it to him herself? Is there something k don’t know or is this just some sort of fear eating her up so she is scared of coming near him?

My attention was called back at what happened next making my stomach turn.

Leon calmly opened the salt and poured every grain into the plate of food he had been eating. He stirred it once, then looked at me.

“Pass it to her,” he said, tone blank.

My breath hitched.

The maids’ eyes widened. I turned to look at the one kneeling—she was already crying silently, her lips trembling as her hands reached out slightly, unsure.

I opened my mouth to speak—to ask why, to stop him—but then I saw the look he gave me.

It was quiet, unreadable, but something about it told me not to challenge him right now.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

My hands shook slightly as I picked up the plate. Slowly, I walked toward the maid and placed it into her waiting palms. Her tears flowed freely now.

Then, to my horror, she began to eat.

One spoonful… two… she was choking already, coughing between bites, but didn’t dare stop.

Heck!!