From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 245: Aftermath

Aiden didn't show up with his solution until everything was already over.

As for the one person who should have actually cared—Lucas—her phone remained completely silent. No missed calls, not even a text asking if she was all right.

That meant from the moment she went missing last night to the public humiliation she faced today in Cedar Creek, Lucas had no clue any of it had happened.

His ignorance was almost ridiculous at this point.

Riley didn't even feel angry anymore. All that was left inside was something cold and empty, like a barren field after winter.

By the time evening rolled around, she had wrapped up the last of her work at the project site. Without really thinking about it, she found herself heading toward the extended-stay apartment where Sebastian was temporarily living in Havenbrook.

She wanted to thank him in person... and if she was honest, she just wanted to see him again.

But it wasn't Sebastian who answered the door—it was his assistant.

The assistant looked surprised to see Riley, then stepped aside politely to let her in. "Ms. Harper," he said, keeping his voice low. "Mr. Torres... isn't feeling well today. He's resting in his room."

"Sick?" Riley's chest tightened. "What's wrong?"

The assistant hesitated, looking uneasy. "Probably a fever or a bad cold. He hasn't been himself since he got back from Cedar Creek. And... Mr. Torres really doesn't like going to the doctor."

After giving Riley the entry code, the assistant excused himself discreetly.

Riley keyed in the code and eased open the door to Sebastian's room.

Only a dim floor lamp was on. Inside, the tall figure of the man lay quietly on the bed. In just half a day, his usual commanding presence had been replaced by the worn-out look of someone fighting off illness. His face was unusually pale, and even his breathing sounded thick and fevered.

A sharp wave of guilt washed over Riley.

She moved quietly to the bedside. "Did you catch a chill last night," she asked softly, "from staying out on the mountain with me?"

Sebastian hadn't been sleeping deeply. At the sound of her voice, his eyes opened slowly—they looked clearer than she expected, but tired.

When he saw it was Riley, the tense line of his mouth softened just a little. His voice came out rough. "It's nothing serious. Just a minor thing."

Riley didn't buy it. Her gaze dropped to his hand, which lay outside the covers. "Let me see your hand."

Sebastian instinctively tried to pull it back, but Riley was quicker—she took it gently in hers.

The bandage had come loose at some point, revealing the cut beneath from the broken glass.

Maybe because it hadn't been cared for properly, the skin around the wound was red and swollen—clearly infected.

Riley's heart pinched, sudden and sore.

She frowned, worry slipping into her tone without her meaning it to. "This is infected. Have you seen a doctor?"

"I'm fine," Sebastian said, his tone light. "It'll heal in a few days."

But Riley remembered what the assistant had told her earlier. "Mr. Torres really doesn't like going to the doctor. When he's sick, he almost never goes to the hospital."

Was it because of his aunt? Was that why he avoided doctors and hospitals—because of the pain that memory carried?

The thought made Riley's chest ache.

She stood and searched the apartment without another word, quickly finding the first-aid kit.

Pulling out fresh gauze and antibiotic ointment, she returned to sit carefully beside the bed. As she began cleaning the wound with gentle hands, she kept her voice casual. "Sebastian... is it because of Regina that you don't like hospitals?"

Her question was soft but direct.

In the dim lamplight, Sebastian didn't answer right away.

He simply watched her quietly. Those usually sharp, penetrating eyes were clouded now by fever, like dark stones smoothed of all their edges, leaving nothing but a quiet kind of vulnerability.

The room fell still—nothing but the sound of his slightly labored breathing and the faint, nervous rhythm of her own heartbeat.

After what felt like a long moment, he finally stirred. His lips were dry when he spoke, and his hoarse voice held a trace of something almost like a plea. "Riley... could you come a little closer?"

Riley stilled.

She hadn't expected that.

But seeing him like this—stripped of all his usual armor by sickness—she did as he asked. She shifted to sit on the edge of the mattress, nearer to him.

Almost as soon as she settled, Sebastian moved.

Pushing himself up slowly, his body radiating heat, he did something that caught Riley completely off guard: in one careful, deliberate motion, he leaned forward and buried his face against her stomach, his arms coming around her waist.

The hug was sudden, and yet... incredibly gentle.

His skin was fever-hot, almost burning where he touched her.

But everything about the way he held her carried a tenderness that felt completely at odds with the man she knew.

He probably never let anyone see him like this—she could tell by the slight stiffness in his posture, like he wasn't quite sure how to do this.

Riley's heart clenched hard in her chest.

She lifted a hand, hesitated for only a second, then laid it gently against his warm forehead. Her fingers slid into his hair, rubbing slow, soothing circles over his scalp.