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CHAPTER 47 : THE NAME GAME
publish date:
2026-11-11 14:40:33
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The Billionaire Brother Was Never My Enemy CHAPTER 47 : THE NAME GAME
Amelia's POV There is no force on earth more chaotic than three days of newborn sleep deprivation combined with the Blackwood family's naming opinions.None."We should call her Eleanor," Adrian announced, arms crossed, standing over the hospital bassinet like a tiny general inspecting troops. "Strong name. Historic. Eleanor Blackwood. It commands rooms.""She's three days old, Dad," Damon said. "Her biggest accomplishment is terrifying the nursing staff.""The nursing staff should be commanded.""Dad." Raven, sitting cross-legged at the end of my bed with her infamous list, didn't even look up. "You had your children. This one is Amelia's. And mine, emotionally. Eleanor is a schoolteacher. We need something with flair.""Flair," Adrian repeated, offended. "Flair is for racehorses.""Then I've got bad news about your granddaughter, because I feel strongly about Seraphina.""No.""Ophelia?""No.""Beatrix?"Raven narrowed her eyes. "Why did you say that one slower?""Because it's the
The Billionaire Brother Was Never My Enemy CHAPTER 45: THE ITALIAN CRIB INCIDENT
Amelia's POV Two weeks had passed since Zurich, and the closer we got to the delivery date, the more Damon seemed to believe he could prepare for absolutely everything.Unfortunately, that belief was about to be tested by a wooden crib.It arrived on a Tuesday, delivered by two men in suits who handled it like it contained the Crown Jewels."Signora Blackwood," one of them said, bowing slightly as they set the massive olive-wood crate in our living room. "From Tuscany. Your father-in-law sends his regards and instructions.""Instructions?"He handed me an envelope. Inside, in Adrian's aggressive handwriting:Do not let Damon assemble it alone. The instructions are in Italian. Love, A.B.I looked up. Damon was already circling the crate with the expression of a man about to declare war."Babe," I said. "Your father says—""I can read instructions.""They're in Italian.""I speak Italian.""You speak business Italian. This is furniture Italian.""Amelia." He cracked his knuckles. "I ru
The Billionaire Brother Was Never My Enemy CHAPTER 44: THE QUEEN'S GAMBIT
Amelia's POV I waddled into a Zurich boardroom at eight months pregnant, and three European executives stood up out of pure reflex.Not respect. Reflex. Like I'd tripped an alarm."Gentlemen," I said, lowering myself into the chair Damon's assistant had helpfully pre-cushioned. "Sit down. The baby doesn't bite."They sat.This was the St. Regis Group's parent company — Meridien International, forty hotels across nine countries — and the deal on the table was the biggest of my career. Hart & Co. wasn't consulting for them anymore. Hart & Co. was being acquired into their operations structure. I would run guest experience for the entire European portfolio.I'd been negotiating it for five months. The final sticking point was the one that always was: whether a pregnant American woman was a "distraction risk" during implementation.They'd stopped saying it out loud around month four. The paperwork still said it."The clause stays," Henri Laroche said, tapping page nineteen. "Six-week rev
The Billionaire Brother Was Never My Enemy CHAPTER 43 : THE BOARDING SCHOOL FOR BABIES
CHAPTER 43 — THE BOARDING SCHOOL FOR BABIESPOV: Amelia Hart"Boarding school," I repeated. "For a baby who is currently the size of a mango."Adrian waved a hand dismissively. "Preparation, Amelia. The waitlists are brutal. I spoke to a lovely man in Switzerland this morning""Father." Damon's voice was very calm, which meant he was very close to losing it. "Our child is not going to boarding school. They are not even born.""Fine," Adrian sniffed. "Then I'll keep the Swiss option in my back pocket." He turned to me, softening immediately. "The cake, darling. Before the guests lose interest."He swept out of the library like a general.I stared at the doorway. "He has a Swiss back pocket."Damon stood and offered me his hand. "Come on. Let's go cut the cake before he registers our child for Oxford."The chessboard cake was a masterpiece white chocolate squares, little marzipan pieces, and a tiny queen at the center that everyone insisted looked like me."Speech!" Raven shouted, bang
The Billionaire Brother Was Never My Enemy CHAPTER 42: THE BLACKWOOD BABY SHOWER
Amelia's POV I should have known better than to trust a text message from Raven.“Lunch at the estate on Saturday. Just family. Casual clothes. XO.”That was the message. What she failed to mention was that "lunch" actually meant a forty-person baby shower, and "casual clothes" meant I was currently underdressed for a high-society gala.Damon and I stepped through the front doors of the mansion, and I stopped dead in my tracks.White peonies were everywhere. Floating in crystal bowls, wrapped around the banisters, cascading from the chandeliers. A string quartet was playing in the corner, and a table the size of a small car was groaning under the weight of gourmet food and a five-tiered cake shaped like a chessboard."Damon," I whispered, gripping his arm. "We're underdressed.""They are overdressed. I told my father to keep it small.""Clearly, he heard 'small' and thought it meant 'a small country'."Raven appeared, looking flawless in a pale pink dress."Surprise!" she sang, kissi
The Billionaire Brother Was Never My Enemy CHAPTER 41: A ROOM FULL OF LOVE
Damon's POV I had spent the better part of Saturday morning comparing two different designs on my laptop when Amelia walked into the nursery.“Are you still doing that?” I looked up. “Doing what?”“Researching baby furniture.”“I'm making sure we choose the right one.”She looked at the laptop screen, then at the two sample catalogues scattered across the chair.“Damon, they're both cots.”“One has better structural support.”“They're both made for babies, not elephants.”I closed the laptop. “I don't appreciate your lack of concern for structural integrity.”She laughed and walked towards me, resting her hand on her stomach.“You're taking this very seriously.”“Someone has to.”“Someone?”“Your husband. The baby's father. The person who will probably be assembling furniture at three in the morning.”I reached for her hand and kissed her fingers. Since the baby had moved for the first time, I had found myself looking at her stomach more often than I cared to admit. Every little move
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