Genius Kids' Scheme: Claiming Daddy's Billionaire Empire Chapter 218

The crisis had shifted. Little Bell's wheezing had calmed, but Irene's frown only deepened as she watched the girl's small body twitch uncontrollably. Despite breathing better, the child's ghost-white face told of a bigger problem unfolding.

"What's happening to her now?" The director's voice cracked as she hovered nearby.

"It's not just asthma," Irene said, keeping her voice steady despite the tension running through it. "She's having nerve-related spasms. This just got way more complicated." She rubbed her temple, fighting off a wave of dizziness before refocusing.

Matthew stepped closer. "Hospital?"

"No time." Irene shook her head. "I need to stop this now before it causes brain damage."

From his wheelchair, Adam noticed the color draining from Irene's face and the slight shake in her hands. Instead of commenting, he silently moved closer, creating more space for her to work.

The urgency in the small room intensified as Irene pulled out a portable nerve treatment device from her bag, movements quick but precise. Her voice carried an authority that brooked no argument.

"We need to hold her down so she doesn't hurt herself. Matthew, Director—grab her limbs."

They immediately complied, gently but firmly securing Little Bell's twitching body. Taking a deep breath, Irene placed small metal contacts on specific points across the girl's tiny frame with practiced precision.

Adam watched with growing concern. "Are you sure you're okay to do this?"

Without looking up, Irene brushed him off. "Not now. Need to focus." Her eyes remained locked on the device readings as she adjusted settings with trembling fingers.

Nearly an hour later, sweat dripped from Irene's forehead onto the equipment. When Adam offered her a handkerchief, she pushed it away. "Don't. I can't break concentration."

Adam backed off but his eyes darkened with worry. He turned to Thomas, keeping his voice low. "Get the car ready. Call Lawrence. Tell him to wait for us."

The room fell quiet except for the soft beeping of equipment and occasional whispers as staff members came and went. Outside the window, afternoon light gradually shifted to evening shadows, but inside, time seemed suspended as everyone watched Irene work with unwavering focus.

As Little Bell's convulsions gradually eased, Irene stayed vigilant, continuously adjusting settings while monitoring every tiny response.

"She's stabilizing," Irene said, her voice rough like sandpaper. "But I need to watch her for at least another two hours."

"You've been at it for five hours straight," Adam said quietly. "Let someone take over."

"Nobody knows what I know about her condition right now." Irene stubbornly shook her head. "Switching doctors mid-crisis is asking for trouble."

Matthew handed her water and an energy bar. "At least fuel up."

Irene took a mechanical sip and bite before returning to her patient. As she adjusted one of the contacts, color slowly bloomed on Little Bell's cheeks.

"You're a miracle worker," the director whispered.

Irene attempted a smile that didn't reach her exhausted eyes. Adam and Matthew exchanged glances—their rivalry temporarily shelved by shared concern.

The hours continued to pass as night settled outside. Staff members moved quietly around the room, bringing fresh water and checking if anything was needed. Through it all, Irene remained focused on her patient while Adam's watchful gaze never left her increasingly pale face.

Seven grueling hours later, Little Bell slept peacefully, her face finally showing a healthy pink glow.

Irene exhaled slowly as she removed the final contact. "We're past the danger zone. She'll need hospital monitoring, but the worst is behind us."

She pushed herself up to stand but suddenly the room tilted sideways. Sounds blurred into a distant hum as everything began to spin. She reached for support but caught nothing.

"I'm fine..." The words barely escaped before her vision went black and she pitched forward.

Adam lunged instantly, wheeling forward to catch her upper body with his arms before she could hit the floor. Raw panic flashed across his face before hardening into determination.

"She's completely wiped out," he said, voice steady despite the tremor underneath. After checking her pulse and breathing, he looked up sharply. "Thomas, car?"

Thomas immediately stepped forward, taking Irene from Adam's arms. In that moment, something dark and painful crossed Adam's face—a flash of pure frustration at his inability to lift her himself, to be the one protecting her. The helplessness tightened his jaw, but he quickly locked those feelings away, a reaction he'd practiced countless times since making his decision about Irene.

Staff began buzzing anxiously as Matthew moved forward. "I should take care of her. I'm a doctor."

"She's coming to Emerald Garden," Adam cut him off, his gaze arctic. "Lawrence is already on his way." Thomas held Irene carefully while Adam's eyes never left her face.

Matthew's expression twisted with worry and reluctance. "Let me come with you. She's my—"

"You need to get Little Bell safely to a hospital," Adam interrupted. "That's what Irene would want." Matthew couldn't argue with that.

The tension followed them as Thomas carried Irene through the corridor with Adam rolling close behind. Children and staff parted like a sea, their faces pinched with worry.

"Is Doctor Lady gonna be okay?" a small voice piped up—Little Bell's friend, eyes wide with fear.

Adam paused, something softening briefly in his expression. "She'll be fine. She's like a superhero who used up all her power saving your friend. Heroes just need to recharge sometimes."

The children's shoulders relaxed as Adam nodded to Thomas to continue. They moved through the building and out into the cool evening air where a sleek car waited with doors already open.

At the vehicle, Thomas carefully settled Irene onto the back seat. Adam supervised every movement like a hawk. "Watch her head... that's it..." Though his face remained calm, his eyes betrayed a storm—the familiar frustration of wanting to do something so simple yet being unable to.

Once she was settled, Adam tucked a blanket around her and gently brushed hair from her face. His expression shifted into something that appeared more often these days when he looked at her—tenderness mingled with determination.

Glancing back toward the welfare institute entrance, he caught Matthew watching them, his face showing that he'd read everything in Adam's expression—recognition, concern, and something like surrender.

"Take care of her," Matthew called simply.

Adam gave a single nod, acknowledging both the request and the unspoken concession. After Thomas helped him into the car, the doors closed, and the vehicle glided away toward Emerald Garden.

Inside, Adam held Irene's limp hand, watching her pale face as familiar emotions resurfaced. The streetlights flashed rhythmically across her features, highlighting the dark shadows beneath her eyes and the slight furrow that remained even in unconsciousness—always carrying the weight of others, even in sleep.

He felt the now-familiar ache of frustration at his limitations, particularly in moments like this when he wanted nothing more than to be the one carrying her to safety. Yet as he watched her breathe—the woman who had crashed into his carefully ordered life with three children and endless complications—he was reminded of the decision he'd already made. He would tell her everything once he could stand on his own two feet again, once he could offer her not just his heart but his strength as well.

For now, he simply held her hand tighter, a silent promise that even if he couldn't carry her today, someday he would. And until then, he would catch her whenever she fell.