Genius Kids' Scheme: Claiming Daddy's Billionaire Empire Chapter 233: Even He Gets Scared

Irene cranked the shower as hot as it would go, but the steam couldn't wash away the morning's horror. Her fingertips trembled as she turned off the water. She dressed quickly, avoiding the mirror entirely—she didn't need to see what she already felt.

Her arms and shoulders were covered in bruises, still aching from those rough hands. She pulled her sleeve down and took a quick breath before opening the door.

Adam sat by the window, his face half-shadowed. At the sound of the door, he turned, eyes finding hers instantly.

"Got us some food," he said, his usual edge gone.

Irene nodded and sat down at the table. The salmon looked perfect, but her stomach twisted at the thought. She pushed it around, occasionally forcing down a bite that might as well have been cardboard.

Adam watched her push food around, waiting until her fork hit the plate for the third time.

"Let me help with those," he said, nodding toward her bruises.

She hesitated. "It's fine, I—"

"Please."

Something in his voice made her nod. His touch was feather-light as he applied ointment to each mark, his movements nothing like the commanding CEO the world knew.

"Not going anywhere today," he said, eyes focused on his work. "Just staying here with you."

Just a few words, but they helped her breathe a little easier.

Later, Irene lay in bed, dead tired but couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, those faces showed up in the dark. She kept jumping awake from bad dreams, heart racing, fingers gripping the sheets.

The faint sound of Adam's wheelchair in the next room filtered through the door. She found herself listening for it, counting the seconds between movements.

Her tablet chimed. Three eager faces would be waiting. Irene gulped water, practiced a smile that felt alien on her face, and answered.

"Mom!" Lucas practically bounced. "Miss us yet?"

"Every minute of every day!" Lily squeezed into view.

"When are you coming back?" Alex nudged his siblings aside.

"Course I miss you guys," Irene said, hoping they couldn't hear the strain. "Everyone behaving? Homework done?"

Alex squinted at the screen, his little-man frown appearing. "You look tired. Like, *really* tired."

Her stomach sank. The kid missed nothing. "Just busy. We'll be home tomorrow."

"Is Uncle Adam there?" Lily asked, eyes bright with mischief. "Is he taking good care of you?"

*Care.* The word hit something raw. Adam standing when he shouldn't be able to. Arms open. Catching her when she fell.

"He's..." Her voice caught. "Yeah. He is."

She cleared her throat. "How's Joseph's chess game going?" A cold thought slipped in: *What would happen to them if I didn't come home?*

After hanging up, voices drifted from the living room. Thomas had arrived, his normally measured tone urgent and low.

"—completely handled," he was saying. "Local authorities won't be a problem."

"And that man who hired them?" Adam asked.

"Still tracking him. Money trail leads to—"

She stepped into the doorway. Both men went silent.

"What man?" she asked, catching the tail end of their conversation.

Adam held her gaze, then decided on honesty. "Someone hired those guys. Gave them your picture two days ago."

"Description?"

Thomas shook his head. "Avoided cameras. They remembered build and voice—pretty distinctive, they said."

Irene frowned. "Nobody knows me as Joy except medical people." She paused. "Unless someone tracked my connection to you."

Something dangerous flashed across Adam's face. "Tell García to beef up security," he told Thomas.

"Maybe we should push back tomorrow's flight..."

"No," Adam said firmly. "The sooner we're back in Silver City, the better." His eyes dropped to Irene's arm, something like guilt crossing his features.

Evening shadows stretched across the suite. Adam looked up from his tablet to find Irene emerging from another shower, circles under her eyes darker than before.

"Any sleep at all?" he asked quietly.

She sank onto the couch, unconsciously picking the spot closest to him. Her fingers dug into the cushion edge.

"When can we go home?" she asked, voice small. "I miss the kids."

*I want to feel safe again* hung unspoken between them.

"Morning flight," Adam said, his voice softening. "Just tonight, then we're out."

He reached out, hesitant, and touched her shoulder. When she didn't pull away, something in him eased.

Adam watched her in the fading light. Seeing her like this—hurt, shaken—cut through him like nothing ever had. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her tied up in that filthy apartment. The fear hadn't left him.

*I'm scared,* he realized suddenly. *Me. Scared of losing her.*

Guilt hit him hard. *If I hadn't pulled her into my mess...*

He remembered how much it hurt to stand up, pain shooting through every part of him. He'd do it again without thinking twice.

"Hungry?" he asked, eyeing her barely-touched lunch.

"A little," she admitted, fingers tracing her water glass.

He ordered her favorites and sat quietly while she managed a few more bites than at lunch. He couldn't help checking the windows and door at regular intervals, something primal keeping him on alert.

After dinner, Irene straightened. "Treatment time."

Adam frowned at the bruises peeking from her sleeve. "Skip it. You need rest."

"That's not how doctoring works," she said, a hint of her usual self coming through. "The patient doesn't get to decide."

As she positioned the electrodes, she winced when lifting her arm. Adam noticed but said nothing, just helped when she adjusted the equipment.

After finishing, he picked up the medicine. "Your turn."

His warm hand steadied her arm while he worked. Irene found herself leaning slightly into his touch. The realization hit her suddenly—after everything, he was the only one who made her feel safe.

Night fell. Irene perched on the sofa edge, gathering courage for what felt like forever.

"Could I stay in here tonight?" Her voice was barely audible.

Adam watched her face. "Nightmares?"

She nodded, fingers twisting in her lap. "I close my eyes and see them."

"Stay," he said simply. "But I'm not taking the couch."

"I can sleep there, it's fine—"

"No blankets," he cut in. "Gets cold." He gestured toward the bedroom. "Bed's big enough. We stick to our sides."

A pause. "If you're worried, we can build a pillow wall."

Irene almost smiled at that. "Okay."

That single word held more trust than either acknowledged.

Adam arranged everything—pajamas, towels, extra pillows. Before hitting the lights, he tugged the blanket around her side, making sure she was covered.

In the darkness, an unexpected sense of security settled over her. She turned on her side, watching Adam's profile in the faint city light.

*Just until he falls asleep,* she told herself. *Then I'll close my eyes.*

But exhaustion pulled her under first.

Sometime in the night, Adam woke to movement. Irene had shifted toward him in her sleep, unconsciously seeking warmth.

*Just like her kids,* he thought, watching her. The trio did the same thing, gravitating toward safety even in sleep.

Her warmth next to him sent heat crawling up his neck. His breathing hitched as he closed his eyes, trying desperately not to notice how the moonlight traced silver paths across her skin.

He shifted away carefully, only to find her following in her sleep.

*Pure torture,* he thought, throat tight.

With nowhere left to retreat, he froze in place. The woman he cared for most was inches away, soft and trusting. How could he not want her? But because he cared, he wouldn't cross that line.

He fought with himself until sunrise peeked through the curtains. Sleep finally took over with Irene curled up against his side, her breathing soft against his neck. Neither realized how right it felt to be together like this.