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I’m Benita Bellington

Author: Eden
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-16 18:21:24

Benita’s POV

By morning, she had showered, changed, answered emails, and still couldn’t shake the sound of that voice.

“I hope he’s strong enough to protect you.”

She sat at her desk, blazer on, hair pinned back, but the chill hadn’t left her skin. Roo had crawled into bed with her sometime after three—small, warm, thumb in her mouth, dragging a blanket across the floor. Benita had held her tight, whispering stories and counting heartbeats. She hadn’t fallen back asleep. She didn’t need to.

By dawn, she had a plan.

She wasn’t scared anymore. She was furious.

And fury, unlike fear, gave her clarity.

She sent three texts. Then four emails. Then made a call to someone she hadn’t spoken to in years: Warren Caldew, her father’s longtime rival and the current Vice Chair of the Elders Council.

“Benita Bellington,” he said with surprise. “Didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.”

“Don’t let the surname fool you,” she said calmly. “I’m calling as a citizen.”

“Of course you are,” he said, cle
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  • Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   Steering the story!

    The camera wasn’t perfect.It was propped on two stacked hardback books and a ceramic bowl, the kind of rig her media team would’ve fainted over. No ring light. No edits. Just a soft-lit living room and one shot.But when Cillian sat down across from the lens, shoulders squared, eyes tired but steady—Benita knew it was enough.No PR gloss. No news anchors filtering his voice. Just him.She hit record.And the man who had once refused to say anything personal on camera—began.“My name is Cillian St. James,” he said. “Some of you know me as a contractor, some from prison records, some from gossip blogs. For the past few weeks, my face has been in more headlines than I’d like. I wasn’t going to respond. I thought I could outlast it.”He paused. Swallowed hard.“But I’ve realized that silence can be just as dishonest as a lie.”Benita watched from behind the camera. Watched him breathe through every line like it was both a wound and a release.“There’s a clip circulating right now. A priv

  • Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   Breathe

    The message came in just past midnight.Benita:I didn’t defend you. I stood beside you. There’s a difference.Cillian sat back in his chair, phone still in hand, that single line echoing louder than anything the news had said in the last forty-eight hours.He hadn’t realized how badly he needed someone to say that.Not his comms team.Not his lawyers.Not Kent, or even Syl.But her.She wasn’t offering comfort. She was drawing a line in the sand — and choosing his side.Cillian exhaled slowly, set the phone down on his desk. His office at Dawson Construction was dark except for the desk lamp and the white glow of his laptop screen, where a dozen unread articles still loomed like threats.He closed the tabs one by one. He already knew what they said.Fraud.Manipulator.Too clean to be true.And now — according to a whisper campaign — maybe dangerous.Isla was playing the long game. She always had. But this time, she wasn’t coming for just his name. She wanted his impact — every contr

  • Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   Over the city lights

    The air in the Bellington offices felt like glass—smooth, polished, and always on the verge of shattering.Benita stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out over the city without really seeing it. Her reflection hovered in the glass, sharp and still in her dark slacks and crisp silk blouse, but the woman inside her bones was moving too fast to focus.The headlines hadn’t stopped cycling.The Elders Council had postponed the Foundation’s quarterly review. Major partners were “re-evaluating their affiliations.” Reporters had tried to bait her into answering Isla’s accusations with emotion instead of fact.And Cillian? He had gone quiet again.Not retreating. Not avoiding her. But building walls. Preparing for the next blow.Kent was the first to speak when he entered the room behind her. “That silence is so loud, I almost knocked.”She didn’t turn. “Isla’s team sent an official request for comment to my office this morning.”Kent winced. “That’s ballsy.”“She wants me to flinch,”

  • Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   People remember!

    BenitaThe boardroom was louder than usual.Not in volume—but in presence. Every breath felt weighted. Every glance, a judgment. And at the center of it all sat Benita Bellington, spine straight, fingers interlocked on the polished mahogany table like she belonged there—even if half the people in the room were starting to question that.She didn’t blame them. Not entirely.The past week had shaken more than her inbox.It had cracked something in the structure—something deeper. A belief, maybe. That doing the right thing always bore the right results. That if you vouched for someone, and believed in them publicly, the world would meet you with understanding, not fire.But Isla had seen to that.Now, headlines moved faster than truth. Opinions were currency. And Benita—by name, bloodline, and bold decision—was financially tethered to the man being painted as a con in a suit.“Miss Bellington,” one of the older members of the Elders Council began, voice clipped, “we have reviewed your st

  • Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   He can’t fix it, sadly

    They were using his face again.Cillian sat alone in the back office of Dawson Construction, watching the headline crawl across the muted screen like it had been waiting for him to notice: “From Felon to Fraud? The Cillian St. James Redemption Myth.”His mouth was dry. Not with fear. Not even with anger.Just exhaustion.He muted the screen, even though there was no sound playing to begin with. Then leaned forward, elbows on the desk, head in his hands.The phone buzzed once—Kent.KENT:Benita saw the article. She’s not reacting yet. Just figured you should know.Of course she saw it. She always saw it.And of course Kent knew before he did. That was the curse of having a best friend whose loyalty outpaced his caution. Lately, Kent had been orbiting too close to Benita, trying to keep the peace no one asked him to preserve. Cillian didn’t resent it. Not exactly. But the ache in his chest said otherwise.He tossed the phone across the desk. It hit the edge of a file folder and skidded

  • Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother   Bad karma

    Benita’s POVBenita was used to silence.But this kind—the kind that sat heavy over every breath—was harder to get used to.Her new house in Oakland still smelled like fresh paint and unfamiliar air. No portraits on the walls. No old rugs to muffle her footsteps. Just quiet, careful decisions: neutral tones, clean countertops, glass doors. A home for someone starting over. A home for someone who wasn’t sure what to bring with her.Kent was in the kitchen, putting away the medication he’d just picked up from Belle’s pharmacist. He didn’t ask questions. Just handed her the box when he came in, glanced briefly at the embossed label, and moved on.“You could’ve had them deliver it,” she said.“I could’ve,” he replied, without looking at her. “But then I wouldn’t get to check on you. And I don’t trust hotel managers to tell me the truth when I call and ask if you’re still breathing.”Benita managed a half-smile, curling her fingers around the ceramic mug she’d been pretending to drink from

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