From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 232: A Feverish Night

Sebastian strode into the suite, carrying Riley through the expansive living area straight to the bedroom. He laid her down on the plush mattress, but the moment he let go, the drug raging through her veins took full control.

Desperate and feverish, she clung to him. Her arms locked around his neck, her burning cheek rubbing helplessly against the side of his throat. Her lips, still smeared with blood, found his in a clumsy, urgent kiss.

Sebastian froze.

There was no finesse to it—just raw, reckless need, crashing violently into his carefully guarded world.

His tall frame went rigid. He knew Riley had no idea what she was doing; it was purely the chemical chaos driving her. But even as his mind shouted warnings, his body betrayed him.

The soft press of her mouth, her heated breath, the metallic-sweet taste of blood—it ignited something he'd kept buried for too long.

Besides... she was his fiancée now.

In less than two weeks, they'd be married. She'd be his wife, legally and in every way that mattered. And there was no real marriage left binding her to Lucas—just paperwork and past hurt.

They were two consenting adults, soon to be husband and wife. If things went further tonight, it wouldn't be cheating. It'd just be... sooner rather than later.

The thought spiraled wildly in his head.

Sebastian's self-control was unraveling fast as Riley's kisses grew more frantic, more insistent. Part of him roared that this was his chance—to make her completely his.

But another voice, quieter and clearer, cut through: This wasn't fair to her. It wasn't respect. How would she face him—face herself—when morning came?

His eyes darkened, conflicted and stormy. He was slipping, and he knew it. He even began kissing her back, harder, taking charge, letting hunger override reason.

But just as he teetered on the edge—

A strained, slurred whisper escaped her swollen, well-kissed lips, forced out through gritted teeth.

"Lucas!"

All desire drained from Sebastian in an instant.

He went completely still.

She'd said Lucas' name?

They say that in moments of life or death, the name you call out is the one that truly owns your heart. So even now—even after everything Lucas had done, even as she plotted revenge against him and Sophia—some deep, subconscious part of her was still holding on to the man who'd hurt her most?

The realization felt like a physical blow.

Sebastion pulled away abruptly, stepping back from the bed. His chest heaved with ragged, angry breaths. His deep-set eyes had flushed a dangerous shade of red.

Without his touch, Riley only grew more restless. She strained toward him, a whimper escaping her throat.

"No."

Gritting his teeth, Sebastian yanked a thick duvet from the foot of the bed and wrapped her tightly, cocooning her from head to toe. Then he secured the bundle with his own leather belt.

Drugged and weakened, she squirmed uncomfortably but couldn't break free.

Sebastian stood beside the bed, willing his breathing to steady. After a moment, he turned and walked into the bathroom. He cranked the cold tap, splashing water over his face until the fever under his skin began to cool.

He lifted his gaze to the mirror. A few smudges of Riley's lipstick still stained his cheek. Sebastian's mouth twisted into a bitter smile.

Pulling out his phone, he called his assistant. "I need a trusted female doctor—someone discreet. Get her to the hotel now."

After hanging up, the disappointment still hung heavy in his chest, but worry for Riley quickly overrode it. Wrapped up like that, she could still hurt herself.

Pushing his own turmoil aside, he stepped out of the bathroom.

And then he heard it—muffled, broken sobs coming from within the duvet.

Full of raw hatred.

Over and over, she choked out, "Lucas... Sophia...

"I'll make you pay... you bastards..."

The jealousy that had been eating Sebastian alive just moments ago finally clicked into understanding.

She hadn't been calling out for Lucas.

She'd been cursing him.

Sebastian's expression darkened further. So all that back-and-forth, all that internal drama—he'd basically been having a full-blown jealous meltdown over nothing. How pathetic.

He pressed his lips into a thin, hard line.

But... the moment was gone. The chance to let things happen had passed.

He let out a heavy, weary sigh and returned to sit on the edge of the bed, staying close to the cocooned Riley.

Before long, there was a quiet knock at the door.

The doctor had arrived—a longtime family physician for the Torres family, known for her discretion and trustworthiness.

"Mr. Torres," she greeted with a slight nod, her professional eyes briefly flicking to the blood drying on his left hand.

She followed him into the bedroom. When she saw Riley wrapped tightly in the duvet and secured with a belt, even her experienced composure faltered for a second, surprise flashing in her eyes.

Sebastian offered no explanation. He moved forward, unbuckled the belt, and carefully peeled back the layers of the duvet until Riley was visible again.