All Chapters of Too Late to Want Me; I chose your Billionaire Brother: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Ben glanced at his screen repeatedly as he drove towards the old creek in the outskirts of Oakland City. The phone call with Cillian had left him in thoughts. Even though he was desperate, he had his suspicions, he wasn’t stupid. If Cillian truly had a deal with Shanon King, why would he offer it to him? The whole pitch smelled funny— and Ben didn’t trust Cillian, not even a bit.Still, the idea festered in his mind like an infection. King power was real power. And if he had a King beside him, he would trump the Bellingtons— more specifically, he would trump Benita Bellington. The mere thought of it made him giddy. And if there was even a chance Cillian wasn’t bluffing… he wanted to take it. He wanted to take all of it. As soon as he reached the old creek, he found Cillian. His mother’s son. He looked nothing like him or his mother. In fact, he looked nothing like a Dawson. No Dawson had gray eyes. Not one. Ben’s stare pierced through him, then a smirk slipped on his face. “

“Call him.”Ben’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Call Shanon King right now and tell him you have the divorce papers. That’s the only way I’ll believe you.”Cillian didn’t move. His jaw tightened—but his eyes stayed flat, unreadable.He reached into his coat pocket for his phone, stepping aside, careful to look calm.He didn’t have Shanon King’s number.Hell, he barely knew the man beyond the glossy headlines and rumors Benita muttered when she thought no one was listening.But Ben couldn’t know that.Cillian tapped out a number.Not Shanon.Kent.The phone rang once.Before it could connect—Pain exploded across the back of his head like a lightning bolt.Cillian staggered, breath caught in his throat— his life flashed before his eyes. Then everything went black.He woke to cold.Not the kind you can shiver through—the kind that makes you wonder if you’ve already died and no one told you.it was with a sickening throb pounding in the back of his skull. Damp air. Crumbling

Shanon’s SUV tailed Benita’s car like a loyal hound, Maloi in the passenger seat clutching the first aid kit tighter than her seatbelt. They reached Cillian’s mansion just a little before dawn.Soon as they arrived, Cillian lay shirtless on the couch, pale and bruised.Thank God for Maloi’s two semesters of nursing school before she swapped scalpels for survey maps—her hands were steady as she threaded a needle through the torn skin on his head, then she wrapped a bandage around his arm before slipping it into a sling.Kent entered the kitchen despite the time, banging pots and spatulas like a battlefield drummer—better yet—a battlefield cook, whipping up something edible for everyone—including, begrudgingly, the brooding man who almost died for Benita.By morning, the mansion was quiet.Kent was the first to wake up—or at least, he thought he was—trudging down the grand staircase, yawning, only to pause at the sweet smelling scent curling through the air.He followed it to the kitche

The boardroom had emptied. The clatter of chairs and murmurs faded into a deafening quiet. Glass walls reflected the orange-pink glow of the dying sun, casting long shadows that across the polished floor.Cillian stood by the window, hands buried deep in his pockets, his gaze lost somewhere between the gleaming skyline and the victory he’d just claimed. Why didn’t it feel good? Why didn’t it feel like a victory. What was the is weight sitting heavy on his chest? The triumphant moment he had imagined almost everyday for six years in prison now felt hollow.And he couldn’t tell if that was what broke his heartbreak more. Shanon King lingered in the corner behind him, hands folded neatly across his chest. His usual confidence was softened, replaced by a cautious warmth as he approached.“You did well today, Dawson,” Shanon said quietly, his voice barely above the hum of the city beyond. He slid a slim, leather-bound folder across the table.Cillian’s fingers closed around it, the tex

It had been a week since Benita dragged Cillian out of Old Creek and into Amenity Hospital. Seven days since they played an uno at Ben and made Cillian CEO of DCC.In that time, the city had done what cities always do after a scandal—it moved on. DCC had rebranded with quiet elegance, regaining public favor under its sharp new CEO. The Bellington Group of Pharmaceuticals had made headlines by appointing a female CEO—Benita Bellington herself. The rumors were true. The Bellington Heiress now ruled the multibillion dollar company. Shanon King’s investment into DCC was applauded. And Benita had stayed away from Cillian under his direction.Cillian sat behind his desk in the new office, sleeves rolled up, dark shirt wrinkled at the elbows, a pen half-forgotten between his fingers as he scrolled through a series of flagged emails. He had three investor calls, a quarterly projection report to rewrite, and a meeting by 3pm he hadn’t yet prepared for.The door creaked open.Kent leaned i