Genius Kids' Scheme: Claiming Daddy's Billionaire Empire Chapter 140

Morning light caught Adam's pale face as his eyes fluttered open, the fever haze lifting. The first thing he saw was Irene slumped beside his bed, dark circles under her barely-closed eyes. She'd clearly been there all night.

Sensing movement, Irene straightened, deliberately avoiding his gaze. Her thoughts moved like mud after the sleepless night. She rose to leave, stumbling slightly, fingers absently combing through her messy hair.

Adam watched her go, something tugging at his chest. Fragments of the night filtered back—cold compresses against his burning skin, her quiet voice checking his temperature, her steady presence anchoring him through the worst of it. In his feverish state, he'd reached for her hand at one point, holding onto it like a lifeline in a storm.

Thomas appeared in the doorway, worry etched across his face. "Feeling human again, boss?"

Adam pulled his attention away from Irene's closed door and nodded. "Much better."

As Thomas helped him into the wheelchair, Adam's eyes drifted back to where Irene had disappeared. "She stayed with you all night," Thomas said, wheeling him toward the main room. "Wouldn't leave your side for a second. Should I grab her for breakfast?"

"Let her sleep," Adam said, his tone leaving no room for debate.

In the bathroom, Adam stared at his worn-out reflection, mind flashing to Irene watching over him through the night. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had cared for him like that. Water droplets trickled down his jaw, mirroring the complicated emotions he refused to acknowledge.

After breakfast, Thomas bustled around collecting documents and checking his phone. Adam gazed out the window at the city waking up, the business district already humming with early meetings.

"Book another room next door," he said suddenly.

Thomas froze mid-motion, eyebrows shooting up. "Sir?"

"Have everyone come here instead." Adam turned from the window, his expression unreadable. "Tell the branch office we're meeting at the hotel."

"We're not going out?" Thomas asked carefully, already connecting the dots.

Adam's fingers drummed once on his armrest. "Better to play it safe after last night." He paused, his voice dropping. "Besides, can't exactly leave her alone in a strange city."

Thomas quickly masked the smile tugging at his lips, turning away to handle the task. The hotel's carpet muffled his light footsteps as he headed down the hall, but it couldn't hide his inner delight. *Maybe those three little masterminds and their plan will actually work after all.*

A soft knock jolted Irene awake. She squinted at the blurry figure in her doorway, slowly focusing on Adam in his wheelchair.

"What's up?" Her voice came out sleep-rough and surprisingly soft, nothing like her usual no-nonsense tone. Her hair spilled across the pillow, and her eyelids felt like they weighed a ton.

Adam took in her flushed cheeks, something shifting behind his eyes. This completely unguarded version of Irene was worlds away from the put-together doctor he knew, and it sparked a protective instinct he hadn't felt in years.

"You missed breakfast," he said simply. "Lunch is ready."

Half-asleep, Irene only caught "Adam" and "lunch." She reached out without thinking, pressing her palm against his forehead to check his temperature, the motion as natural as breathing. Her hand lingered a moment longer than necessary, something she wouldn't have allowed herself if fully awake.

*Fever's gone*. Satisfied, she withdrew her hand, ready to collapse back into sleep.

Adam went completely still, the ghost of her touch lingering on his skin. Her casual contact—something he allowed from almost no one—left him momentarily speechless. 

Reality hit Irene like ice water. Her eyes snapped open, suddenly locking with Adam's. Her heart hammered as her brain replayed what she'd just done. Heat flashed up her neck to her cheeks.

"Force of habit," she managed, scrambling for composure and failing spectacularly. "Doctor thing."

Adam watched her obvious fluster, something softening in his expression. The brilliant doctor who commanded respect throughout the medical world was the same woman now blushing over a simple touch. His mouth quirked into the ghost of a smile.

"Food's getting cold," he said, turning to leave. His wheels whispered across the carpet, giving her the space she desperately needed.

They ate in comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional clink of silverware.

Irene took a bite of her sandwich, suddenly remembering. "Wait—weren't you supposed to have that big meeting today?" She looked up, brow furrowed.

Adam shrugged, the motion almost imperceptible. "Switched to video conference."

Irene watched him, the wheels turning in her head. "Because of last night?"

"Better safe than sorry," he replied, but something in his tone made Irene suspect there was more to it.

She nodded, returning to her food while the realization settled in. He'd changed his plans, possibly for her. The thought warmed her in a way she wasn't prepared for. For someone who prided herself on maintaining emotional distance, the wave of gratitude surprised her.

"Thanks," she said quietly, not looking up.

Adam didn't respond, but he didn't need to. Something was shifting between them—fragile and unnamed, but impossible to deny.

That same afternoon, the hospital's hallways in Silver City echoed with the sound of small running feet and laughter. Alex, Lucas, and Lily raced toward Brandon's room, Henry trailing behind with a look that screamed both frustration and fondness.

"Bet Uncle's totally climbing the walls by now," Lucas said, airplane swooping through imaginary clouds.

"We can play games with him!" Lily's pigtails bounced with each skip.

Alex patted his backpack proudly. "Got the new Switch games. That'll cheer him up."

Brandon's door stood open, and when he spotted the triplets, the pain etched on his face vanished. "There they are! My favorite trouble-makers!" His genuine smile transformed him from stern race car driver to delighted uncle in seconds.

The kids piled onto his bed like puppies, careful of his injured leg while bombarding him with stories. Brandon's laughter mixed with their chatter, the sound breathing life into the sterile room.

Nurses found reasons to stop by, bringing juice boxes and cookies. One young nurse whispered to Brandon as she adjusted his IV, "Your niece and nephews are adorable. The whole floor feels lighter with them here."

The triplets demonstrated Great-grandfather Joseph's latest card game, spreading the cards across Brandon's blanket-covered legs.

"So you have to match the colors," Alex explained seriously.

"But only if the numbers are different," Lucas added.

"And you can only—" Lily stopped mid-sentence.

The sharp click-click-click of heels against tile silenced the room. Three little heads swiveled toward the door in perfect unison.

Lucas leaned toward Brandon, stage-whispering, "Who's that?"