All Chapters of One Heart, Which Brother?: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

The dawn crept into the room in pale, fractured streaks, slicing across the silk curtains. Ruben woke slowly, his chest aching as though sleep had been another battlefield. Beside him, Lia sat upright on the window seat, her back turned to him, draped in black silk that clung to her like a shadow.Her hair was unbound, spilling like ink down her spine, her wedding band catching the early light in a glimmer that looked more like steel than gold. She hadn’t spoken since last night’s ceremony not after the vows, not after the champagne, not after the guests whispered about the strange bride who dressed as if she had come to bury her groom rather than wed him.Ruben pushed himself up, watching her with a quiet ache. He thought hoped that in the privacy of their chambers, she might soften, might let him in. Instead, her silence cut sharper than any blade.“Lia,” he began softly, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “You didn’t rest at all.”Her reflection in the glass turned toward him before

The Delwunco estate gleamed in the late afternoon sun, the kind of light that made shadows feel sharper, longer. Lia walked through the halls with the confidence of someone who had already claimed what was hers. Every step echoed against marble floors, a warning and a promise. Today was not about mourning. Today was about power, presence, and control.Ken waited in the drawing room, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. The guilt was written on his face in deep lines guilt that had consumed him these past weeks, ever since Julian’s death. He had rehearsed his words a hundred times, preparing to beg for forgiveness, to plead, to make amends in the only way he knew how. But he wasn’t prepared for this Lia.She entered, dressed in a black tailored gown that hugged her figure perfectly, a subtle slit along the leg, her hair slicked back into a severe, elegant bun. Her lips were red, cold, and precise. Her eyes glinted with a fire that made Ken’s stomach knot. This was no fragile, grievin

The Delwunco estate was silent, too silent, save for the faint echo of Lia’s heels as she strode across the marble floor. Black silk draped around her body like armor, the hem of her dress whispering over polished stone. Her reflection rippled in the tall glass windows, a phantom queen walking through the halls of a dynasty she was now determined to claim piece by bloody piece.Ruben trailed behind her, his hand shoved in his pockets, his jaw set tight. Since the wedding, he had been studying her the way one studies a fire drawn to its beauty, terrified of its reach. She wasn’t the woman he once loved, the one who laughed freely in the kitchen, who hummed lullabies for Julian. No, this Lia was sharp edges and shadows, her eyes void of softness, her smile carved from ice.And still, he couldn’t stop wanting her.“Everything you asked for has been arranged,” Ruben said finally, his voice low as though the walls themselves might turn her words into weapons. “The board will meet tomorrow.

The city didn’t sleep. Not anymore.Neon lights pulsed against rain-slicked streets, reflecting on the glass towers that reached into the sky like sharpened blades. At the heart of the chaos, whispers spread through alleyways, poker dens, and smoke-choked bars whispers of her. The Black Widow of the Delwuncos. The woman who wore her son’s ghost like armor. The woman who had turned a wedding into a funeral, and a family into an empire.And tonight, for the first time since her return, she would be seen outside the estate.A convoy of sleek, black cars cut through the rain-soaked avenues, engines purring like predators. The city’s underbelly gang lords, politicians, businessmen, even her enemies watched from the shadows as the fleet slowed outside the grandest hall in the district. The Delwuncos had called a meeting, and the world had no choice but to answer.Inside the car, Lia sat poised in the backseat, draped in a gown the color of midnight. Her lips were painted blood-red, her fing

The house belonged to her.And everyone knew it.At the long dining table, Ruben sat stiffly at the head, his shoulders broad but weighted with something invisible. The men, his allies, his brothers-in-arms, filled the seats on either side. They had come to hear him, but their eyes drifted down the table to the woman dressed in black. Lia sat in the middle of the length, not beside him, not at the edge, but perfectly centered as though she were the axis of the world.Her dress was silk, the color of midnight, clinging to her form with deliberate elegance. A diamond glinted at her throat, sharp as ice. The room seemed colder with her in it.She didn’t look at Ruben. She didn’t need to.“Gentlemen,” Ruben began, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, forcing steadiness. “We are gathered here to strategize on reclaiming our borders. The opposition”“Its fractured,” Lia interrupted smoothly, her voice like velvet dipped in venom. Heads turned toward her. “They’ve lost two of their top c