My Billionaire Ex Beg For A Second Chance-Chapter 206: The Sleepless Hour

It was 4:07 a.m. in Singapore.

The hotel suite was drenched in muted silver light from the towering windows, the skyline a blur of glass and steel shadows in the quiet hours before dawn. The city below slept, but Felix could not. His button-down shirt hung open, the collar wrinkled and askew from hours of restless pacing. Now he sat still, finally, in a sleek armchair by the window, one hand holding a cold cup of untouched black coffee, the other rubbing the bridge of his nose.

On the table beside him, the award plaque from last night gleamed under a dim lamp, an emblem of success, utterly meaningless in this moment.

His phone buzzed again.

He didn’t even check the name.

Buzz. Buzz.

It had been going off for hours, vibrating across the wooden tabletop like an anxious insect. He had muted most notifications, news apps, social media, random calls, but the ones from his assistant and PR team remained. Those he couldn’t afford to silence. Not now. Not when things had spiraled into chaos overnight.

The media hadn’t slept. Headlines screamed across the internet. "Felix Crawford Engaged?"

Photos of him and Lara circulated like wildfire. Her arms around him. Her eyes on him like she owned him. A reporter had even captured the moment she whispered something into his ear and he hadn’t recoiled.

Of course he hadn’t. He was too stunned.

Another headline read: "Crawford Family Confirms Engagement of Their Only Son."

That one stung the most. Who the hell confirmed it? His father? His mother?

That was impossible. His parents weren’t the type to breathe a word to the press about personal matters, least of all something as absurd as this. They barely tolerated media attention unless it was for business. His mother would rather eat glass than give a comment on his private life, and his father... well, the man’s disdain for gossip columns was practically legendary.

Felix’s jaw locked. He could almost picture the smug faces of those tabloid hacks as they typed away, probably congratulating themselves for "breaking" some exclusive story. They probably thought he wouldn’t bother to challenge it—that he’d be too busy with "damage control" to fight back.

They were wrong.

He dragged his thumb across the screen, scrolling through the articles, one more infuriating than the last. Each used the same phrasing, the same conveniently anonymous "source close to the family."

This was defamation, and he wasn’t going to let it slide. If they thought they could throw his name around to sell clicks, they were about to learn exactly how much that would cost them.

Felix ran a hand through his hair, eyes bloodshot, jaw tight. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. How could he?

With a grunt, he reached for his phone and called his assistant.

The line rang twice.

"Sir?" Samuel’s voice came through, groggy.

"Where are we with the PR statement?" Felix asked, his voice rough and clipped.

A pause. Then a rustling sound as if Samuel was sitting up. "We sent the first draft to your inbox. Legal is reviewing the language. We’re trying to distance you from the engagement rumors without offending the Johanssen family too directly. Also- did you... sleep at all?"

Felix scoffed, sharp and bitter. "Sleep? How the hell am I supposed to sleep, Sam? I find my face splashed across every tabloid like I’m some goddamn lovestruck idiot."

"I know, sir. I know. But Miss Johanssen hasn’t released a personal statement yet. That gives us a little room to move. We’re also contacting the Johanssen family to clarify their end."

"I don’t give a damn what they clarify," Felix muttered. He stood and walked to the window, pressing his palm against the cold glass. "She ambushed me. You saw the footage."

"Yes. It’s clear you didn’t initiate anything. But you didn’t reject her either. Not publicly."

Felix closed his eyes. "Because I was blindsided. I didn’t even realize what was happening."

Samuel hesitated on the other end. "We’re doing all we can. But the photos speak louder than our words right now."

Felix opened his eyes slowly, the skyline blurry for a second before it came back into focus.

"And what about legal? Are they sending anything to Lara?"

"They’ve drafted a cease-and-desist, warning her to stop using your name in false engagement claims. But again, sir, this could cause more drama if it leaks."

"Let it leak then," Felix said flatly. "I’d rather be called a cold bastard than let her smear me like this."

Silence.

Samuel cleared his throat. "Understood. I’ll proceed with the next draft. Is there anything else you need?"

Felix paused.

His gaze had drifted. Not to the award. Not to his phone. But to the worn leather wallet on the table.

Inside it was a photo of the twins.

And another one, smaller, grainy print from years ago, of Katherine. Smiling. Her arm hooked around his, her head tilted just slightly toward him. The memory pierced him like glass.

"Yes," he whispered. "Book the jet. I need to go home."

There was a beat of stunned silence. Then Samuel said, "I-now? But sir, you have meetings scheduled until tomorrow afternoon. And the cleanup here—"

"I said I need to go home, Sam. Book it. Now."

"Yes, sir. Right away."

Felix ended the call.

His jaw clenched, and he stood there for a long moment, letting the decision settle into his bones. He wasn’t waiting for things to spiral any further. He wasn’t going to sit here in a foreign city while Katherine-

Katherine.

He had no idea what she must be thinking right now.

He pictured her face as she saw the headlines. Imagined the way her shoulders might’ve tensed, how her lips might’ve parted in disbelief. Her voice, asking herself if he had betrayed her.

He couldn’t let her believe that. Not even for another hour.

He picked up his phone again, considered calling her, but didn’t.

No. Not over the phone.

Felix grabbed his blazer from the couch, stuffed the wallet into his pocket, and strode toward the door.

As he opened it, he cast one last look at the award still sitting on the table.

A hollow, glittering thing.

He turned away from it and left the suite.

He wasn’t chasing headlines.

He was going home to fight for the only thing that mattered.

Katherine.

And their family.