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Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   You did everything to be with her.
The silence after Benitaâs departure hung thick in the mansion, heavy as smoke. Her words still echoed down the hall, bitter as poison: Itâs over.The front door had slammed. Her perfume lingered faintly in the air, like a ghost that refused to leave.Cillian remained standing in the center of the parlor, hands loose at his sides, eyes fixed on nothing. His jaw flexed, but no sound came from him.Behind him, footsteps creaked. Kent. Then Syl.The brothers exchanged a glance before speaking.Kent broke first. His voice was low, almost careful.âWas that really necessary, Cill?âNo answer.Kent tried again, this time firmer. âBenita. You didnât even try to stop her.âCillian turned slightly, just enough that the lamplight caught the hard angle of his cheek. âAnd what would you have had me say?ââThat she matters!â Kent snapped. âThat you didnât mean it the way it sounded, that you werenât throwing her family under the bus just toââ He cut himself off, realizing his voice had risen. He e
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   After the conferenceâŠ
After Cillianâs declaration at the press conference, the chamber of the Elders was a storm.Heavy velvet curtains swallowed the morning light, but nothing could dim the fire in the voices bouncing off the domed ceiling. The long table of oak, polished so often it gleamed like glass, now rattled under fists and fury.âThe audacity of that boy!â one Elder spat, his cane striking the floor with each syllable. âHe drags us into the mud before the city!ââWho gave him the right?â another snapped. âWe trusted him with one task â one! Defend us, stabilize the narrative. Instead, he paints us as villains!ââI warned you from the start!â cried a third, face red as flame. âSt. James was a mistake! A wolf invited into the sheepfold.âTheir rage overlapped, tangled into a chorus of outrage. Papers were flung, cups overturned. In the midst of it all, the only figure unmoved was the one who mattered most.Mr. Ade.Seated at the head of the table, the Elder of Elders did not speak. His hands were fo
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   Oakland city is broken
Belle Bellington didnât speak a word when Cillian led her out of the foundation.Not a word during the long walk to the car.Not when the night wind pressed against the windows, or when Oaklandâs skyline glittered cold and distant on the horizon.But she couldnât unsee it.The darkness in his eyes.Not the kind that came from prison, or loss, or regret. This was something elseâan authority, a finality, a conviction so sharp it cut through her spine.For the first time in years, Belle Bellington felt small.She opened her mouth once, shut it again. He gripped the wheel, knuckles pale, jaw set, his profile carved from stone. The silence pressed in untilâHis phone vibrated.The name lit up the screen.Benita.Cillian reached, thumb hovering over the green icon. But before he could answer, Belleâs voice sliced through the air.âBenni,â she said, leaning toward the phone, her words low, shaking, but laced with something cruel. âCome get me. I canât spend another moment with this man.âCil
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   Differences
Belle Bellington had always known the day would come.Not this place, not this hour, and definitely not this man.The Gabby Dawson Foundation had become her refuge, the only corner of Oakland where she could reguag her past couldnât whisper her name. Here, she was just a grieving benefactor, a quiet investor whose money built playgrounds and bought books. No one asked questions, no one looked too closely.So when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the marble corridor, her body stiffened before her mind even placed the rhythm.Not Luke. Not even Benita. Him?Cillian St. James.Relief pricked her first â finally, someone had found her. Someone who could take her out of this limbo of shadows. But that relief was instantly shadowed by disappointment, bitter and sharp. Out of everyone in the world, it had to be him. The ex-convict, the wild card, the man who had ruined her daughterâs life simply by existing on its periphery.She smoothed her scarf across her shoulders, lifted her
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   Gabyâs Memorial foundation
Benitaâs pacing was a rhythm of defiance. Back and forth across the wide windows of the Bellington estate, her heels clipped against the polished floor in steady rebellion. The sun had dragged itself high into the sky, and yet no word had come. No message. No call. Not even the coldest update. Cillian had promised her last night that he would handle it. And now it was nearly three in the afternoon, and stillâsilence. Her hands twisted together, nails pressing crescents into her skin. âBenni,â Luke said from the armchair, voice weary, âyou have to give him time. Heâs not careless. Just trust him.â She stopped pacing, turned to him. âIâm losing my mind just waitingâŠâ âThe day is almost gone and we havenât heard from him.â Her father rubbed his temples, already searching for another hope. But Benita was already at the door, headed out. Suddenly, her phone vibrated in her hand. âKent?â âBenita,â his voice came low, measured, but edged with urgency, âdo you know what Cillianâs doi
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   As if on cue
âI know what youâve found,â Luke said quietly.Benitaâs throat tightened. âDo you?âHis gaze flickered toward the folder between them, then back to her. âIâve been told. And I suppose thereâs no point in denying it anymore.â He drew in a long breath and released it, almost like a confession already pressing at his lips. âYour mother and I should never have crossed paths.âBenita sat straighter. âWhat?âLuke leaned back, his eyes closing briefly, then opened them again, forcing himself to look at her. âIt didnât begin with Belle. It began with Julia Vale.âBenita blinked. Julia Vale. The name rang in her chest like a cracked bell.âYour grandfather thought me careless, spoiled,â Luke continued, his tone measured but shaking underneath. âBut Julia⊠he was brilliant. Ruthless in ways I could never be. We were young men trying to build something out of nothing. The business wasnât even called Bellington back then. It was just an ideaâa building, a handful of desperate schemes. He wanted m
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