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Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Cillian St.James
Cillian hadn’t touched a drink in days.But tonight, he needed one. Or maybe two. He had lost count. He poured another anyway—more out of ritual than want. The glass sat untouched beside a pile of marked-up documents and notebooks. They weren’t relevant. Most were half-burned pages of old property transfers and court depositions. But he flipped through them anyway. It gave his hands something to do.The house behind him was silent. It had been that way since the night Sylvester walked out without a word. Since Kent started staying out later. Since Belle made good on her threat.And Benita? He hadn’t heard from her at all. It was only a few weeks, but it seemed like forever.So he stayed quiet. A little quieter each day. Like a man hoping to be erased. These days, only his work phone rang. Hod personal phone rarely buzzed and he hated the silence. Suddenly, his phone lit up, and he didn’t know what to expect.He picked up the phone mindlessly and instantly his breath hitched.Benita
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Don’t kill the man who came to save me
BENITAThe home doctor peeled back the last of the gauze around her ankle. His touch was brisk but careful, hands gloved, eyes avoiding hers.“There,” he muttered, pressing a flexible patch down where the deepest wound used to be. “You’re good to walk again. Just don’t run a marathon.”Benita nodded. “Wasn’t planning to.”Her voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else. Her mind had already drifted elsewhere— another ankle. Wondering if it was still wrapped in stiff gauze.Was he still limping? Had he let it heal, or had he been too stubborn to sit still?She hadn’t seen him since the night they found her. Hadn’t heard his voice since he’d been warned to steer clear of her. The midafternoon light poured into the Bellingtons’ private sitting room like honey through lace. The air smelled faintly of bergamot and restraint.Benita tugged her pant leg back down and flexed her foot. It didn’t hurt anymore.She sank into one side of the low table, looking around like she had jus
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Abandoned Again
CILLIANThe front door shut behind him with a dull, final click.Cillian stepped into the dim hallway of his own house, a house that now felt more like an echo chamber than a home. Somewhere in its walls, the warmth had vanished. Everything was black, white, or grey.He shrugged off his coat.Sylvester was already waiting.He sat at the long dining table, posture stiff, hands folded like a confession begging for release. Between them: a half-empty bottle of whiskey and two untouched glasses.“You look like you need a drink,” Kent said quietly, sliding a glass across the table.Cillian caught it mid-slide without breaking stride. He glanced once at Kent.“Give us a minute.”The command hit hard. Kent blinked but didn’t argue. He glanced between them, reading the tension like smoke thickening in a closed room. Then he walked away.Cillian waited for the soft click of Kent’s door before turning fully to Syl.He took a slow sip of the whiskey, set the glass down with quiet precision.“I w
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Archives
Cillian watched the last gate close behind him with a thud. The hallway stretched ahead—too clean, too quiet.The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant and hopelessness. He’d been here before. Six years locked away, and the man he was about to face had put him there.The guards led him down into the visitor’s bay.No one had visited him back then. Not once.That was what it meant to be alive and erased. Men like Shanon, the Bellingtons—they didn’t kill people. They buried them alive.Belle’s words still echoed in his mind: “If I see you anywhere near my daughter again, I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again.”She’d said it with her whole face clenched.The door buzzed, and Ben walked in.He slumped into the chair across the partition, face twitching like static.“I get it now,” Cillian said quietly. “To love something enough to give anything to protect it.”Ben blinked, confused. “This about Benita?”“No. It’s about you. I understand you now.”Ben scoffed, leaning
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Custody
The hospital lights were too clean.Too quiet. Too antiseptic. The silence pressed against Cillian’s ears after the smoke and screaming and fire alarms. Now, everything smelled of bleach and sterile air. He sat beside Benita’s bed like he was afraid the world might rip her away again.His hands were still streaked with soot. Her IV clicked steadily.But she was breathing.Awake.“Do you want water?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.She shook her head. Slow, deliberate.Her throat was raw. Her ankles, tightly bandaged. Her gaze? Distant. Shaken.“I keep thinking I missed something,” she whispered. “That if I’d turned half a second faster…”“You didn’t miss anything,” Cillian said. “Someone pushed you. That’s not your fault.”Her eyes lifted to his—burning, hollow. “Then why can’t I stop replaying it?”He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Me neither.”Her voice dropped even lower. “Do you think it was Shanon?”Cillian blinked. “What?”The door slammed open before
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Yanked
The hallway was on fire.Not literally—yet. But the smoke curling out from under the stairwell reeked of accelerant, and the faint orange glow flickering against the warehouse walls didn’t bode well.Shanon didn’t pause. “Left flank. Close the exits.”His men vanished like ghosts. Kent coughed into his elbow, eyes stinging. “Where’s Ben?”“Running away,” Syl said.“Let’s go after him,” Cillian said, pushing off the wall. “Why are we talking?”“Wait—” Kent moved to steady him. “You’re barely standing.”“I don’t care.”Benita’s voice rang out sharp. “He’s right.”Everyone turned. Her face was still pale, her wrists raw—but her eyes burned clean.“He’s not getting away. Not again.”“Benita—”“I’m going. With you. Don’t argue.” She looked at Cillian. “Ben is my problem.”He stared at her. And saw that her mind was made up.They moved fast. Shanon’s team spread through the maze of steel corridors, barking coded commands into their comms.But suddenly, the fire alarm blared, distorting ever
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