All Chapters of Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Ariella’s POV“You didn’t sleep,” Damon said quietly from the balcony door. His voice wasn’t commanding but calm and romantic. I took a slight glance at him, reading his lips, and then replied. “I don’t sleep well when my mind’s still moving.''He pretentiously forced a short smile and smirked. ''Where had your mind gone?'' I took a sip of the tea I had left on the table for more minutes than required and miffed at him.The skyline glowed with early morning light. “Or when someone I care about starts shifting without saying why.”He stepped out beside me, silent for a moment. His presence always held weight, even in stillness.“I know,” he said. “I’ve been distant.”“You’ve been different.”He exhaled slowly. “Trying not to be predictable isn’t the same as pulling away.”I turned toward him. “You haven’t kissed me in three nights. You haven’t touched me unless I touched you first. You still look at me like I’m the answer… but it’s like you’re afraid of the question.”Damon leaned aga

Valeria’s POV“Are you sure he’s alone?” I asked because I can see it inwardly. I didn't doubt Jace’s intel, but I needed to hear it again.Jace didn’t lift his eyes from the screen. “He landed two hours ago. without entourage and no secret calls. Damon’s gone different.” His voice lowered, like he was saying something about someone he once admired. “Which means he’s unstable, I said and adjusted my gloves with slow precision, hiding the tremor that only surfaced when his name was spoken aloud. “And Ariella?”“Running simulations,” he said, leaning back. “Testing him like a weapon, she doesn’t know how to disarm. The distance between them is widening. She doesn’t know he saw the access logs yet.”“She suspects.”“She always suspects,” Jace murmured. “But she doesn’t know.”I turned away from the Berlin skyline. The city shimmered beneath us, unaware that we were pulling strings from a glass tower above it. “Then now’s the time.” Jace nodded, eyes unreadable. “We trigger the third mov

Damon’s POV“Get out of my way.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the security floor like a blade. The guards stepped aside instantly. They’d seen the override in my eyes before the command left my mouth. Thorne Systems’ underground servers hadn’t gone dark in fifteen years. Tonight, they flickered. Layla stood ahead at the lower console. She didn’t turn. “You broke five firewalls to get down here.”“I’ll break five more.” Her fingers hovered over the comms panel. “Ariella's running high-risk intel trails. You shouldn't be here.”“Then she shouldn’t have lied to me.” The final door hissed open behind the retina scan. I walked through it without flinching. Every step felt heavier. Not because of the building pressure, but because of the choice waiting on the other side.Ariella was there. Back turned. One hand on the holographic display. The other still. The pause of someone who knew I’d come.“Was it all a test?” I asked. She didn’t move. “Did you pass?” “Is that what we’re d

Damon’s POV“You’re quiet,” I said, watching Ariella through the thin stream of candlelight on the terrace.She didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze held on the skyline, cold, sharp, filled with a hundred stories we would never control. I didn’t press her. Not yet. Timing was everything, and this wasn’t a warfront. “Why the dinner, Damon?” she finally asked, without looking at me.“Because I needed a moment outside algorithms, politics, and terminal code. I needed… us just like I said before I travelled. Her laugh was soft, not unkind, but skeptical. “There hasn’t been an ‘us’ for a while.”“I know.'' She turned then, eyes searching. Not aggressive. Just precise. “Change? Damon, we’re in the middle of a dismantling. Half of what we’ve built is compromised. And you want to light candles?”“Yes.” I poured the wine slowly. “Because everything else is about survival. This is about permanence.” She froze. I didn’t wait for her to respond. I reached for the folder I had kept folded inside my

Ariella's POV.“You’re packing for a meeting?” I asked, arms folded, eyes locked on Damon as he zipped the side of his travel duffel. He didn’t flinch. “It’s not just a meeting. It’s Isabella.” My fingers drummed the armrest slowly. “The same Isabella who outbid you in Zurich and cut your supply chain in Chile?” He looked up, half-smirking. “She called it business. I call it tactical interest.” I stepped forward. “And now she’s proposing a merger?”“Not a merger but a proposal for joint ownership in three ports, two logistics firms, and one military-grade satellite contract. Her terms are... aggressive. But clean.” I picked up the file, scanned the lines, and the coded phrasing was buried under corporate diplomacy. “Why would she hand you this now?”“Because,” Damon said, crossing to me, his voice low, “we’re bleeding from the inside. And everyone knows it. Jace is unstable. Roe is untracked. Marcus... you know.” My jaw tensed. “So, Isabella smells blood and wants a taste.” Damon’s ha