My Billionaire Ex Beg For A Second Chance-Chapter 236: Fevered Shadows

Leonard sat behind his massive desk, but it felt like the wood beneath his elbows was far too solid, far too real, compared to the fogginess clouding his head. The document in front of him blurred and sharpened in waves, as though his eyes couldn’t decide where to focus. Words slipped past him, black ink twisting into meaningless smudges.

His pen tapped against the paper once, twice, before his hand gave a faint tremor. He clenched his jaw, forcing his grip to steady. The last thing he needed was anyone seeing him weak.

A knock came, soft but firm. "Sir?"

The door cracked open, and Becca stepped inside. She carried a fresh folder in her arms, but when her gaze fell on him, her steps faltered. Her usual composed mask shifted, worry softening her brows.

"You don’t look well," she said carefully, approaching his desk.

Leonard lifted his head, just enough to meet her gaze. His skin felt too tight across his face, heat simmering beneath the surface. "I’m fine." His voice came out low, controlled, but lacking the usual steel.

Becca tilted her head, unconvinced. "Your complexion says otherwise. You should rest."

He snatched the folder from her hands, the movement sharper than he intended, though his fingers trembled faintly as they brushed the stiff manila cover. "I said I’m fine."

For a moment, silence stretched. Becca pressed her lips together, clearly wanting to argue, but her years of experience told her better. She gave a nod and stepped back, though not without one last worried glance. "If you need anything, I’ll be right outside."

When the door clicked shut, Leonard exhaled slowly. He pressed his fingers against his temple, massaging the dull throb that refused to ease.

But it wasn’t just the headache.

The dream from last night clung to him like tar, thick and suffocating. And there, Felix appeared.

They had looked like a family.

A real family.

He gritted his teeth, forcing his eyes back to the document. His pen scrawled across the page, a jagged signature. Each stroke of ink felt like lifting a weight twice his size. Sweat gathered at his temples, sliding slowly down the line of his jaw.

The hours dragged. His office, usually a place of dominance and control, felt like a cage. The ticking of the clock on the wall was louder than usual, drilling into his ears. At one point, Becca peeked in again, her mouth opening to say something, but he waved her off with a curt flick of his hand. She hesitated, then closed the door softly.

By the time the sun dipped behind the skyline, painting the office in hues of gold and shadow, Leonard’s body was barely holding together. His suit jacket clung to him uncomfortably, the fabric too heavy, his tie suffocating. He tugged it loose with a sharp yank, his breathing uneven.

"Mr. Ford," Becca’s voice came again as she entered at the end of the workday, her tone cautious. "You shouldn’t drive. Let me call your driver. Or perhaps-"

"I’ll manage," Leonard cut her off, his words clipped, though his throat felt raw. He shoved the remaining documents into a neat pile, standing with effort. His knees protested, but pride kept his posture straight.

Becca frowned, not convinced. "At least go home to rest. Don’t push yourself further."

He didn’t answer her. His mind was already elsewhere, the pull in his chest guiding him away from his house, away from solitude. The thought of returning to the empty silence of his residence twisted his stomach.

Of course he had to go back to her apartment.

As Leonard stepped into the late afternoon light, the sky stretching above him in quiet greys, he didn’t hesitate. The weight in his limbs, the ache nestled deep in his spine, the sting behind his eyes, none of it mattered. Not right now.

Becca’s voice still echoed in his mind, her concern thick and genuine, but it was background noise now. What did it matter? What did rest mean, really, when the apartment waited with more than just furniture?

Katherine would be there. And their children.

By the time he arrived, his body moved on instinct but no to his own apartment door. His feet carried him down the hallway, each step heavier than the last, until he stopped in front of Katherine’s door.

For a long moment, he just stood there. He leaned against the wall, his back pressed to the cool plaster beside her door. His head tilted back, eyes closing briefly. He imagined what was on the other side, her voice, the twins’ laughter, the kind of warmth he hadn’t felt in years.

His hand lifted, slow and shaky, toward the doorbell. His finger hovered, trembling inches away from pressing it.

"Just... once," he muttered under his breath, voice rough, broken. "Open the door, Katherine."

But his strength betrayed him. The fever weighed his arm down like lead. His hand dropped, landing limply in his lap.

Leonard slumped fully against the wall, his legs folding as his body dragged him downward. He sat there, shoulders sagging, breath ragged. Sweat dampened his collar, his usually sharp features drawn tight with exhaustion.

He pressed a hand against his chest, feeling the rapid, erratic beat beneath his palm. His eyes burned, but whether from fever or from the image of Felix’s smirk still haunting him, he couldn’t tell.

For a long time, he said nothing, only letting the silence of the corridor swallow him whole. Then, his lips parted, and the words slipped out in a low, fevered whisper. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"They’re mine," he breathed. "Katherine... the twins... mine."

The sentence repeated, like a chant, like a vow etched in desperation. His head tilted forward, his chin brushing against his chest as his eyes fluttered shut.

"They won’t be yours," Leonard muttered again, weaker this time, almost inaudible. "Never his."

And with that, his body gave in, the fever pulling him deeper into darkness. The last thing he registered was the faint warmth seeping from behind the door, a warmth he couldn’t reach.