Page 100 of Billionaire’s Ruin

The sunlight spilling across them like a soft, golden blanket.

A sleek dresser, modern and minimalistic.

A small table set near the window, with two chairs angled like they were waiting for a conversation.

This wasn’t a prison.

The sheets under me were soft. Cotton—real cotton, not the scratchy synthetic crap from before. The pillow under my cheek was cool. My fingers skimmed the fabric as I tried to believe it.

Then—

No restraints.

No leather straps pinning my wrists or ankles.

No medical machines humming beside me.

My chest tightened. I ran my palm down my thigh. The pajamas were gone—replaced with a clean T-shirt and soft lounge shorts.

And the diaper was gone.

Thank God.

If I hadn’t been so wrung out, I might’ve laughed or cried or both.

For a moment, I lay there with both hands splayed across my stomach, grounding myself in this impossible reality. The space ramined solid around me.

No illusions.

No hallucinations.

Slowly, with the caution of a man waking inside a dream he didn’t trust, I pushed onto one elbow. My muscles trembled, weak from sedation and disuse. Every movement felt foreign, like trying to inhabit a body I hadn’t been inside for weeks.

Steady.

Slow.

Don’t fall on your ass.

I caught sight of the ensuite bathroom and moved toward it immediately, dragging my feet over the warm wood. I didn’t even need to go. I just… wanted to see it. To touch something that wasn’t padded, locked, or designed to break me.

The tiles in the bathroom were cool under my bare feet. Morning brightness filtered through a frosted window, painting soft squares across the floor. The sink gleamed. Chrome tap polished. A towel folded with neat hotel-like precision.

Normal.

I gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles whitening, and lifted my head.

The reflection staring back startled me.

Sunken eyes ringed with bruising.

Skin pale and drawn tight across sharp cheekbones.

A fading cut on my temple.

Stubble that looked more like neglect than style.

My lips dry and cracked.