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Chapter 29. Fractured Alliances.
Last Updated:
2025-09-11 19:20:30
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Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother Chapter 128. Slow Return.
Damon’s POVRecovery came slowly. The doctors said I was stable but not ready for pressure. They emphasized caution and silence, two things I had never practiced. Ariella enforced every rule without exception. I followed, partly because she was right, partly because I didn’t have the strength to argue.In the first days, we blended into each other. We took short walks, measured breathing, and had quiet meals. My body resisted everything, but she stayed, steady and exact. I worked in fragments, minutes of focus followed by rest. She managed each moment as if balance were her second nature.The company didn’t falter. Ariella led with precision. Her decisions delivered, reports filed, operations intact. Even the board addressed her with natural deference. Watching her work showed me what I had missed for years: leadership that didn’t need dominance to command respect.When I tried attending meetings again, my stamina failed before the second hour when I attended the meeting again. Once,
Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother Chapter 127. Acceptance and Care.
Damon’s POVI returned late, carrying the exhaustion of too many silent battles. Ariella was in the living room, reviewing files she hadn’t been asked to handle. I paused at the doorway, watching her with quiet precision. I closed my eyes, and lots of thoughts pumped into my head. When I opened my eyes, I walked and sat across from her, and forced a smile on my face. The rustle of papers filled the silence. She looked up briefly, nodded once, and continued. There was no tension between us, only a rhythm shaped by endurance. That rhythm steadied me more than rest could.My mother arrived without notice. She had been visiting often since my illness, bringing calm, and neither of us rejected. Ariella stood, offered tea, but my mother waved it off and sat beside me. “You look better,” she said softly. I nodded, knowing she saw past surface recovery.Her gaze shifted to Ariella, full of gratitude instead of judgment. She had witnessed loyalty when the company was at risk. “You kept thin
Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother Chapter 126. Health Complications.
Damon’s POVThe pain returned before dawn. Sharp, sudden, wrong. The monitor blinked faster, and the nurse called for the doctor. He stayed still, jaw tight, trying not to look weak. They said it was a flare-up, nothing critical, but his recovery paused. The word paused hit harder than the pain.He asked for his phone. The nurse refused. Orders from the doctor. He waited until she left, then reached anyway. His hands shook. He typed one message, Don’t tell them yet. Sent it before the screen dimmed again. The IV burned against his arm.By morning, Ariella already knew. The doctor had called, voice professional, guarded. She didn’t panic. She never did. She stood at the window of her office, phone still in hand, and made the first call to the PR head. “We keep this internal,” she said. “Medical privacy applies.” The answer came fast: “Already too late.”The article was small, then viral within an hour. Carter Group’s Chairman Suffers Setback. Phrases like uncertain leadership and possi
Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother Chapter 125. Strength in Unity.
Ariella’s POVDamon’s seat. The others noticed but said nothing. Papers rustled. Phones blinked. A few faces tried to read mine. I placed my folder down. “Let’s begin.” No one spoke. Then Mr. Verden leaned forward, voice polite. “For clarity, are you presiding today?”“Yes.”“Under what authorization?”I slid a document across the table. Damon’s signature. The legal clause beneath. No more questions. Mrs. Halden’s smile was thin. “We appreciate your… dedication. But some of us worry emotion may cloud decision-making in these times.”“Noted.” I turned a page. “Finance first. Q3 reports show stabilization. Debt exposure is down eight percent. The client's hold with Garvis Group is resolved.” No one interrupted. The report continued. Numbers, updates, corrections. No softness in my tone. Halfway through, a vibration on my tablet. A short message. Stay measured. You’re doing fine.Damon.I didn’t look up. My voice steadied further. “Next, supply division, adjustments already approved by t
Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother Chapter 124. Private Reckoning.
Ariella’s POVThe following week, Isabella made her move. A confidential report reached shareholders about “executive instability.” It carried no names but pointed enough to spark concern. I gathered immediate evidence, traced it to her department, and presented it to the board before she could frame a defense. “We don’t need speculation during transition phases,” I said firmly. “Our structure remains intact.” The room fell silent. Damon’s remote approval appeared on the shared file at that exact moment. It ended the matter.When I told him later, he listened quietly. “You’re defending me too much,” he said. “That’s my job,” I replied. “It’s supposed to be mine.” “Then recover faster,” I said. His eyes lifted briefly, something between anger and amusement flickering there. “You talk like someone preparing for war.” I said, “I am.”At night, when everything was calm again, he sent a single message: Thank you for not letting them eat me alive. I didn’t reply. Some acknowledgments worked
Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother Chapter 123. Pressure Points.
Ariella’sThe first week after Damon’s diagnosis was silent on the surface, but movement pulsed underneath. Board members started asking subtle questions through emails marked “routine.” Isabella was the first. Her message sounded polite, concern disguised as inquiry. She wanted an updated financial breakdown signed by Damon directly. It wasn’t standard protocol. I replied within minutes, attaching a summary I’d already vetted and signing his authorization line myself. The chain ended there, but the intent was noted.Sasha followed days later. She requested to “review transition procedures” in case of unexpected absences. I saw through the phrasing. She wasn’t asking; she was measuring the distance between authority and vulnerability. I forwarded the message to Damon’s secure folder, marked confidential, and responded with, “No transition required. Mr. Gray remains in charge.” Her reply came with one word: “Understood.” It wasn’t reassurance; it was acknowledgment of a new fault line
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