All Chapters of Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Damon’s POVI walked into the boardroom with a resolve I had never carried before. The chairs were all accounted for. My mother was already there, flanked by half the remaining family members who had quietly sided with her over the past few months. Benedict was gone, Sasha was exposed, but the energy in the room was still charged, waiting for the next battle. I didn’t speak as I entered. I let them see me first. Let them measure what they thought I would be: a man cornered, tentative, weakened.I had made peace with Ariella, with myself, with what it meant to share life and power. However, I had never been prepared to share my weaknesses. My mother didn’t move.She assumed I would allow her the ceremonial first word. I waited. She circled her gaze over the board members, over me. I could feel the tension she carried. Years of calculated influence, years of soft threats, layered patience, all folded into the measured tilt of her head. I knew the truth: she believed she could intimidat

Ariella’s POVThe office was unusually quiet. Every move felt deliberate. Damon resumed normal operations, but tension from Isabella’s media strike lingered. Though our external battle was over, internal dynamics shifted in subtle, undefined ways.I reviewed Damon’s post-board session reports. Every document, audit, and memo was double-checked. “Something’s off,” I said when Damon walked in. He glanced at me, calm as always. “Internal patterns?”"Yes," I said. “Marcus has been asking junior questions in front of juniors. Roe is quiet but observant. Lyra helps, but I can’t tell whose side she’s on." Damon folded his arms. “I noticed. Minor inconsistencies in the approvals. Nothing major, but enough to track. We need to monitor without tipping anyone off. No confrontations yet.”“I agree,” I said. “But it feels like a storm waiting to break.” He nodded. “Internal betrayal is more dangerous than Isabella’s stunt. It’s subtler. More damaging because it comes from trust. We handle it diffe

Ariella’s POVThe message came early that morning. Damon informed me that his mother had arranged a private meeting with Jace. No agenda, no context, just her familiar phrasing: “family stability.” I recognized the code. It meant containment, not reconciliation. She wanted control back, not unity. Damon knew it too, but he respected the necessity. In this family, fractures weren’t just emotional; they were operational, reputational, and potentially fatal to the enterprise.When Jace arrived, I observed from the outer section of the conference suite. Every gesture spoke calculation. Damon remained composed, though I caught the brief tension in his jaw when Jace avoided his greeting. Their mother entered soon after, controlled, precise, projecting the authority both feared and resisted. She placed herself between them, her positioning strategic, her tone already set for arbitration.“Your conflict affects the entire structure,” she said. Calm, factual, surgical. “Together, you’re streng

Ariella’s POVThe meeting started behind closed doors. Damon sat at the head, Elsa beside him. I watched their eyes move, calculating. Roe stood by the monitor, ready with files. No one said a word until Marcus entered, two red folders in hand.He dropped them on the table. “One from Sasha. One from Isabella.” Elsa didn’t flinch. “Both playing the same game?” I stared and shook my head. “Separate pieces but same board,” Roe muttered. Damon leaned forward. “Go ahead.” Marcus opened the first file. “Sasha’s pushing press contacts to resurface the Zurich incident. Subtle. Timed. Designed to distract.”I tapped my pen. “She’s not aiming to destroy. Just unsettle.” Marcus nodded. “She wants cracks but not collapse.” I didn’t do anything in response but to smile.“Isabella?” Damon asked. “She’s been quiet since the test,” Marcus replied. “But she’s baiting mid-tier board members with old messages and photos. Just enough to raise doubts.”Elsa swore under her breath. “She’s cornering us with

Damon’s POVThe board meeting ended without resolution. The motion for restructuring failed to pass, though the margin was close enough to warn me that victory was temporary. The room emptied in silence. Every handshake was hollow, every nod measured. I stayed seated until the last signature was collected, watching my mother’s expression shift from control to quiet recalculation. When I finally rose, no one stopped me. My authority stood, bruised, but intact.Back at my office, I called my inner circle. The finance head, legal director, and two auditors arrived within minutes. I gave them precise instructions. Initiate internal reviews, trace every document and authorization issued in the last quarter. Every line would reveal either loyalty or rot.The directives went out under coded language, “stability verification.” Everyone in my chain knew what it meant. It wasn’t an audit; it was a purge. Control had to be reclaimed quietly. I monitored the updates personally, cross-checking nam