The Billionaire's Redemption

Chapter Thirty-eight

The sight before Alex, as he shoved Henry's door open, brought a screech to a halt.

Henry was not perched on his sofa.

Instead, he sprawled on the threadbare rug, his limbs sprawling like rag dolls.

His usually neatly combed brown hair stuck out in wild tufts, and his shirt hung askew.

A half-empty bottle of alcohol lay precariously close to his outstretched hand.The other hand, worryingly still, rested limply on the armrest of the sofa.

A cold dread slithered down Alex's spine. Henry, the ever-optimistic, shoulder-it-alone kind of guy, reduced to this? It was a sight that defied logic.

Memories flickered in Alex's mind—of a younger Henry, always with a smile plastered on his face, a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Back then, when they were both just kids, his future was a looming question mark, but he never faltered or let on about the battles he fought.

He did believe that making people aware of the battles he was fighting would make them perceive him as weak and a call fo