All Chapters of After He Took It All: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Brielle's POVI was leaning against the cold wall in the hallway, trying not to sob. The shame was suffocating. I, Brielle Julliard, the only one standing between my father and total ruin, had been publicly embarrassed and dismissed by the only person who could help, all because I was an hour late.I straightened up, shoving the documents back into my bag. I couldn't leave. I absolutely couldn't. I had to make him understand.I walked back toward the huge mahogany door of Richter's office. The receptionist, the one with the severe bun, was watching me with obvious dislike.“Please,” I pleaded, rushing to her desk, my voice raw and desperate. “I know I was late, but I need five minutes. Just five minutes to explain the security threat. It’s critical. My life, my father’s life, is in danger. This is not a game!”She just glared at me. Her expression didn't change, but her nostrils flared slightly. She started speaking in crisp, irritated German.“Frau Julliard, Herr Richter told you cl

Sophia's POVThe air in my own apartment felt suddenly thin, stifling. I was sitting on the edge of my pristine white sofa, staring at my phone like it was a live grenade. The last few days had been a descent into total, unstoppable chaos, and it was all thanks to Jason’s pathetic incompetence and Brielle’s sudden, terrifying transformation.My phone rang again. Caller ID: Jason. I let it ring twice before snatching it up.“What?” I snapped, not even bothering with a greeting.“What do you mean, what?” Jason’s voice was high-pitched, laced with pure panic. He sounded like a cartoon villain whose plans had been foiled by a common house cat. “The lawyers are sending notices! My accounts are being flagged! She’s moving to freeze everything we touched in the last six months, Sophia! You assured me Brielle was too soft, too emotional, too obsessed with Axel to ever focus on the business!”“Oh, spare me the drama, Jason,” I sighed, rolling my eyes at the ceiling. “I’m the one who did the gr

Brielle's POVThe new apartment was okay, I guess.It was hidden, secure, and completely paid for by Richter’s firm, which honestly made me feel a little dirty.It was miles away from the clinic, and I was stuck here living under a fake name, just like in a spy movie—except this one was about emotional torture and tax fraud.The centerpiece of my new life was this terrifying red binder Richter had given me.Except… it wasn't just a book; it was a sarcophagus filled with secrets. It sat right on my small kitchen table, which had become my new desk, and I was spending every waking moment literally drowning in it."Drowning" is the right word because the corporate jargon felt like it was pulling me under.“A derivative contract on a leveraged buyout using the Cyprus trust as a proxy…” I mumbled, rubbing my gritty eyes at 3 AM.Even with my terrible translator app, the German documents were just noise.I kept thinking, “What the hell is a derivative? Why does everything need three layers

Sophia's POVI spent the next day completely obsessing over that internal stamp on Henri Julliard's medical files. The anxiety was a physical weight in my chest, reminding me I was no longer playing chess; I was playing Russian roulette with the biggest corporate family in Europe. I was right about the stamp. After digging through some dusty, old private sector records I still had access to—the kind of proprietary knowledge you never erase—I confirmed it. That stamp belonged to a private research foundation established in the 1990s. The whole thing was a beautifully hidden facade, specializing in neurological trauma and long-term care for... well, for people you wanted to keep quiet and comfortable, but totally contained.And the initial funding for the foundation, the seed money, came directly from a holding company tied to the Ferdinez Group. Axel’s mother. The old woman who runs the show. I paced my living room, the expensive carpet suddenly feeling too thin. Axel’s mother, M

Axel's POVThe security report finally landed on my desk, and I grabbed it like it was the last life raft on the Titanic. I hadn't slept properly in days, and all I could see when I closed my eyes was Brielle's furious face as she walked out that door. The financial damage Jason was doing was bad, but the psychological damage Brielle was doing to me was total. Victor’s data was clean, concise, and incredibly alarming. It was about the burly man, the ‘landlord’ who had delivered the threat package to Brielle. Identity confirmed: Günther Hess. Retired. Affiliations: Worked primarily in transnational security details for the Vandenberg Group, 2008-2019. Now operates as freelance intelligence.The Vandenberg Group. That name was like chalk scraping down a blackboard in my family's history. They were our quiet, corporate blood-rivals from the old world—the kind of people who didn't steal money, they stole leverage.They were the ones who would burn down a house just to prove they could