LOGINShare
The light at the end of the tunnel
Last Updated:
2025-07-25 18:15:12
Latest chapter
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Privilege
Years ago…The email had come at 2:11 a.m., and Sylvester St. James didn’t sleep a second after reading it.Hamilton & Blake LLP congratulates you on your successful application.Your start date is listed below. Please come in business formal.He sat on the stairwell of his dorm, gripping the phone in one hand and a borrowed tie in the other. He’d made it.No family name. No private school network. Just a boy with nothing but grades, grit, and a worn-out laptop, and somehow, that had been enough.He cried. Quietly at first. Then violently. The kind of cry you only give yourself once— relief, shame and joy all at once.He bought a new suit the next day. Cheap but sharp. Got his hair trimmed. Walked into the marble lobby with his back straight and his shoulders tight like he’d seen real lawyers do. His ID badge had already been printed.His first day started with smiles—until they asked:“Who’s your father again?”“Oh… StJames.”“St. James, like—St. James’s Park?”He had smiled. “Somet
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Syl
Cillian was different now.Not obvious to most. He still wore black like it was stitched into his DNA, still moved through rooms with that same quiet confidence that made people straighten up when he passed. But to Sylvester, the shift was unmistakable.It was in the way he leaned back on the couch—not guarding anything, just… breathing. It was in how he looked at Benita when she wasn’t paying attention. Like he finally believed he wasn’t about to lose her.Syl watched from the far end of the living room, a glass in hand, not really drinking.The press conference had aired just that morning. Benita’s voice still echoed through the house like it had carved out something new inside the walls. Even Kent had been quiet afterward. Respectfully stunned.Now Benita and Lola were in the kitchen, voices low but warm. Cillian had retreated to the study after a phone call. Kent was upstairs doing something that sounded like music and violence at once.And Syl?He was just there.Like always.A f
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Now I do
Cillian had never understood how she did it.How Benita walked into a room and bent the air to her will. How she carried the fire of a revolution and still made it look like grace. How she didn’t tremble even when the ground did.He stood backstage, out of sight, arms folded as the press briefing filled. Journalists were already seated, murmuring into microphones, cameras shifting focus. She’d requested it herself—no filters, no teleprompter, no media handlers. Just a mic, a podium, and a truth nobody could dress up.Kent stood beside him, silent for once. His tie was crooked, his shirt rumpled, but his gaze was steady.“Are we about to watch her burn everything down?” Kent asked.“No,” Cillian said. “We’re about to watch her light the path.”Benita stepped into view like she had nothing to lose.She wore no power suit, no jewelry. A dark navy dress. Hair pulled back. A face that didn’t flinch.She approached the podium as the room quieted, scanning the sea of reporters with the same
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Even if it costs me
The sun slanted through the windows like it belonged here.Benita blinked up at the high ceiling, the lazy shadows on the walls, the silk-soft weight of the duvet. For a second, she couldn’t tell where she was.Then she heard it.A distant clang. A soft curse. A pan being set down harder than necessary.Cillian.The night before came back in pieces—Shanon’s voice, raw and cracked, asking for forgiveness he didn’t deserve. The look on Cillian’s face when she found him again. The kiss they shared—not desperate this time, not some apology for what they weren’t, but quiet and careful and true.She sat up, tucking her legs beneath her, rubbing a hand across her face. Her coat was draped neatly over a velvet chair. Her heels were by the bed. Her phone was plugged in.And she was still wearing his hoodie.Benita padded down the hall, past shelves lined with books she hadn’t seen before—Kent’s, most likely. There was a faint hum of jazz coming from the kitchen. The smell of eggs. Butter. Coff
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother For now
The air in Conference Room 2 was too clean. Too still.Belle sat at the far end of the table, perfectly composed in a cream blazer, her posture regal, one ankle crossed over the other. No coffee. No phone. Just her purse, neatly zipped.She looked like someone who came to close a deal. Not destroy a daughter.Cillian held the door open as Benita walked in first.Belle’s eyes didn’t move. But her voice cut like satin.“I was beginning to think you’d make me wait all night.”Benita didn’t sit. “Why are you here?”“To tell you the truth,” Belle said, clasping her hands. “Before someone else does.”Cillian narrowed his eyes. “What truth?”Belle’s gaze moved to him, and for the first time, there was something almost… human in it. Not kindness. Not regret.Weariness.“You think Isla was working alone?” she asked.Silence.“She was handed those sealed files,” Belle continued. “Anonymously, yes—but not without influence. And not without motive.”Benita felt her stomach lurch. “You gave them t
Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother Shanon is here
He didn’t want to be here.Not in her apartment. Not at the table. And definitely not across from the man who’d once tried to buy the life Cillian had nearly died building.But he was here. Because Benita had asked. Because she’d said it wasn’t a trap or a reconciliation, just a conversation. And because—despite the years spent pushing people away—he was learning that some fights weren’t worth picking if trust was going to mean anything.Still, he watched the door like it might open on a ghost.Benita was plating grilled fish in the kitchen, her movements easy, controlled. She hadn’t dressed up—just a dark top and soft pants—but she looked like herself. Not tense. Not flustered. Not the woman preparing to be ambushed.That, somehow, made it worse.“How long ago did he call?” Cillian asked, voice low.“Yesterday morning.” She placed a bowl of roasted vegetables on the table. “He said he wanted to speak in person. Apologize. See if there was a way to… reset.”Cillian frowned. “And you b
You may also like
The Untouchable Ex-Wife
Mizuki Sei2.6M viewsOur Billion-Worth Twins
Velvet Antler594.5K viewsCEO's Tears Over Pregnancy Test Discovery
Faith Shaw711.1K viewsChasing My Pregnant Wife
Night Revelations666.6K viewsThe Hockey’s Plaything(Erotic Short Stories)
Rosie36 viewsMarried To A Monster
Cherry Writes134 viewsBillionaire's Regret: Finding Her
Willi Huma18.6K viewsAfter I Died, He Truly Panicked
Anney GW293 views
