Chapter 32: The Fever

 

The Sterling Villa was quiet, but this time, it was a peaceful silence. The curtains in the master bedroom were drawn, filtering the afternoon sun into a soft, amber glow.

Sebastian lay in the center of the massive bed. He was asleep. His face was flushed with an unnatural red, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. The extreme physical exertion from the board meeting had triggered a severe inflammatory response. His temperature had spiked to 39.5°C (103°F).

Harper sat by the bedside, wringing out a towel in a basin of cool water. Her eyes were swollen. She hadn't slept in 24 hours.

She gently wiped his burning forehead, his neck, and his chest. His skin was scorching hot. Even in his sleep, his brows were knitted in pain, and his legs twitched occasionally from the lingering spasms.

"You idiot," Harper whispered, brushing a wet strand of hair from his face. "Thirty seconds... you really are a crazy gambler."

She traced the line of his jaw with her finger. "But you were cool. I'll give you that."

Suddenly, Sebastian’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. His grip was weak, shaking, but desperate.

"Don't... go..." he mumbled, his eyes still closed, trapped in a fever dream. "Harper... don't leave..."

Harper’s heart ached. She leaned down, whispering into his ear. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

Sebastian’s breathing slowed. He seemed to recognize her voice. He turned his face into her palm, nuzzling against it like a child seeking comfort. "Stay," he breathed.

---

[The Medicine]

Two hours later, Sebastian finally woke up. He felt like he had been run over by a truck. Every muscle fiber screamed in protest.

He opened his eyes and saw the ceiling. Then he turned his head and saw her. Harper was curled up in the armchair next to the bed, fast asleep. She was holding a book, but it had slipped from her fingers.

Sebastian tried to sit up, but his arms trembled. The noise woke Harper instantly.

"You're awake!" She jumped up, dropping the book. She rushed to him, placing her hand on his forehead. "The fever is down a bit. How do you feel? Do your legs hurt? Do you want water?"

Sebastian looked at her worried face. He felt a lump in his throat. He had spent his life surrounded by people who wanted his money, his power, or his downfall. No one had ever looked at him with such pure, unadulterated concern.

"Water," he croaked.

Harper quickly poured a glass of warm water, inserted a straw, and held it to his lips. He drank greedily.

"Dr. Ryan said you need to rest for at least a week," Harper scolded him gently as she wiped a drop of water from his chin. "No working. No emails. And definitely no walking."

"A week?" Sebastian frowned. "I have to deal with the fallout from the board meeting. Uncle Shen won't disappear just because..."

"Liam is handling it," Harper interrupted. "You are grounded."

"I'm the CEO. You can't ground me."

"I'm your girlfriend," Harper crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "And your nurse. So yes, I can."

Sebastian stared at her. Then, a slow, weak grin spread across his face. "My girlfriend," he tested the word. "I like the sound of that."

He patted the spot beside him on the bed. "Come here."

"No, you need rest."

"I can't rest if you're so far away." Sebastian gave her his best 'puppy dog' eyes (which looked ridiculous on a fierce CEO, but worked perfectly). "I'm cold."

Harper sighed, defeated. She kicked off her slippers and climbed into bed, careful not to touch his sore legs. Sebastian immediately pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair.

"You are better than any medicine," he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.

Harper stroked his back soothingly. "Sleep, Sebastian. I'll watch over you."

---

[The Cornered Rat]

While the villa was wrapped in warmth, a storm was brewing in a dark warehouse on the edge of the city.

Uncle Shen (Shen Yuanfeng) paced back and forth. His tie was undone, his expensive suit rumpled. He had lost. The board had suspended him. The bank was freezing his accounts. Sebastian’s lawyers were already digging into the old financial records.

"It's over," Julian sat on a crate, head in his hands. "We should run. Leave the country."

"Run?" Uncle Shen stopped pacing. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and smashed it against the wall. "I spent twenty years building my power! I will not run like a dog because of my crippled nephew!"

"But what can we do?" Julian cried. "He's back! He walked! Everyone thinks he's a god now!"

"He walked for thirty seconds," Uncle Shen sneered. "I saw him collapse in the car. He's weak."

"But he has that woman," Elena added, her voice trembling. "That Harper. She's always with him. She protects him like a guard dog."

Uncle Shen’s eyes narrowed. "Harper." "Yes. She is the variable I didn't calculate." "She is the one who fixed him. She is the one who gave him the courage."

He turned to a shadowy figure standing in the corner of the warehouse. A man with a scar running down his face. A professional cleaner.

"The girl," Uncle Shen said coldly. "Does she have family?"

The scarred man nodded. "Parents. They run a small noodle shop in the old district. And a grandmother in a nursing home."

Uncle Shen smiled. It was a smile devoid of humanity. "Good." "Sebastian thinks he's invincible because he has armor." "Let's see what happens when I peel his armor off... piece by piece."

---

[The Call]

Three days later. Sebastian was recovering well. The fever was gone, and he was back to working from bed (despite Harper’s protests).

Harper was in the kitchen making soup when her phone rang. "Mom"

She picked it up, smiling. "Hey Mom! I was just thinking about you..."

"Harper!" It wasn't her mom. It was her dad’s voice. But it sounded wrong. Panicked. Breathless.

"Dad? What's wrong?"

"Don't come to the shop!" her dad yelled. "Stay away! They are looking for you!"

Crash! The sound of glass shattering came through the phone. Then a scream. Her mother's scream.

"Mom! Dad!" Harper gripped the phone, her blood freezing. "Who is there? What is happening?"

A rough, unfamiliar voice took the phone. "Miss Evans."

"Who are you?" Harper screamed. "Don't touch them!"

"Your parents are fine... for now," the voice laughed. "But accidents happen in kitchens. Gas leaks... fires..."

"What do you want?"

"Come home, Harper. Alone. No bodyguards. No CEO." "If we see a single black car, your parents' shop goes boom." "You have one hour."

Click. The line went dead.

Harper dropped the phone. It clattered onto the kitchen tiles. Her face was white as a sheet.

"Harper?" Sebastian rolled into the kitchen. He had heard the crash. He saw her shaking, saw the terror in her eyes.

"What happened?"

Harper looked at him. If she told him, he would send Liam. He would send the police. And the man said... no black cars. Or the shop goes boom.

She couldn't risk her parents' lives.

She forced a trembling smile. "Nothing... just... my mom slipped. She twisted her ankle. I need to go home and check on her."

Sebastian frowned. He knew her too well. He saw the lie. "I'll send a car with you."

"No!" Harper shouted too quickly. She took a deep breath. "I mean... no. It's the old district. The streets are too narrow for your cars. I'll take a taxi. It's faster."

She walked over and kissed his cheek. Her lips were cold as ice. "I'll be back for dinner. I promise."

She grabbed her bag and ran out the door before he could stop her.

Sebastian sat in his wheelchair, watching the empty doorway. The unease in his gut grew into a roar.

He picked up his phone. "Liam. Track Harper’s phone." "And get the team ready." "She's lying."