Todos los capítulos de Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother : Capítulo 131 - Capítulo 140

Ariella’s POVThe hospital corridor had become a second office. I started each morning coordinating updates with doctors, then shifted seamlessly into handling family visits. Damon’s mother had begun arriving early, often carrying food no one ate but everyone appreciated. Her presence, once tense and uncertain, now carried calm authority. She watched me quietly, her earlier reservations replaced by something closer to respect.I made sure every visit followed order, limited time, limited talk, and no stress. Family meant well, but emotions made everything unpredictable. His siblings wanted different things: longer visits, fewer restrictions, more updates. I had to balance affection with protection, reminding them that recovery wasn’t a show of strength but a process. My tone stayed even, even when their frustration bled through.When Jace came, the room shifted slightly. His questions were sharp, his eyes searching for what he couldn’t name. I answered factually, never defensively. I

Ariella’s POVThe message reached me before sunrise. It came from an unverified account, short, sharp, deliberate: “He’s stable. You shouldn’t be.” I deleted it and moved on. There was no time for fear. The company’s communications unit was already waiting for direction. I dialed in before dawn, my voice flat but firm. “No leaks, no statements until cleared by me. We confirm nothing we cannot prove.”By seven, the first rumor appeared online. Damon’s hospitalization had been exaggerated—an unnamed insider claimed he was in critical condition. The post gained traction before anyone could trace its source. I called in Martin, the CFO. “Shut down speculation,” I said. “Not with denial, with facts.” He nodded, already moving. We drafted a verified internal bulletin, time-stamped, medically cleared, and signed by the attending physician.Before it went live, Isabella’s office released a subtle counter memo, “ensuring continuity during uncertain times.” The tone was innocent, but the implic

Ariella’s POVThe ward had settled into a calm pattern. The urgency that once filled every corner had drained away. Nurses moved at an unhurried pace now, confident in the rhythm of Damon’s recovery. Each therapy session ran with purpose; every rest period carried weight. He no longer resisted the pain. It was part of rebuilding, and he understood that. I learned the meaning of every pause in his breathing, the small signs that willpower was quietly returning.His mother arrived earlier than she usually did. There was no sound of clicking heels or distant chatter preceding her arrival. She paused at the doorway. She scanned the room with a different expression. The expression wasn't that of judgment, but one of watching. I greeted her as I always did, with a polite and restrained type of candor. I turned back to the monitor. She said nothing at first. She only crossed the room and sat close to his bed. Her hands, once tight with criticism, lay open in her lap.Damon saw her reflection

Ariella’s POVThe day started with his decision to delegate. Damon read through half the report before sliding it toward me. “You take it from here,” he said. It wasn’t command; it was trust. I nodded once and began rewriting what he had paused on, matching his tone and intent without asking.He watched quietly, saying nothing for minutes. When I signed off on the first section, he leaned back. “You didn’t even need my review.” I answered, “You’ve already taught me enough.” He smiled faintly, the first unguarded sign of confidence since the accident.Later, Elsa joined us through video to discuss financial adjustments. Damon gestured for me to speak first. I summarized the report and addressed each objection. We concluded with a projection that left no space for argument. “You sound more like him than he does lately,” Elsa remarked. By midday, the board meeting was connected remotely. Damon joined for five minutes before stepping aside and instructing, “Ariella will lead.” I took o

Ariella's POV.I returned to the boardroom, where Damon had been announced. The room went silent the moment he took his seat. His calm filled the space, and I placed my files in order beside him. No gestures, no speeches, just quiet acknowledgment of a new beginning.He began reviewing the quarterly projections. His voice was even, deliberate. “We proceed with the merger timeline,” he said. No one challenged it. The authority in his tone needed no reinforcement.I outlined the financial adjustments and logistical shifts. He filled in the strategic notes. Our rhythm was precise, efficient. The board watched, and I could sense their relief. Control had returned, but it was no longer his alone. It was ours.When the meeting ended, reporters clustered near the doors. Damon addressed them briefly. “Continuity has been restored. Our focus remains productivity and integrity.” I stood beside him, maintaining composure. The cameras caught the moment that defined renewal.In the following days