《A Woman Worth Billions, Dated the Wrong Brother》全部章節：第 161 章 - 第 170 章

Amber POVBy the time we arrived at the fairy house, the night had gone deep and quiet.The gates opened in silence.The gardens were lit softly.The towers glowed against the dark like something out of a dream.After the base, after the alarms, the screens, the gunfire, and the politics—Home felt unreal.The front door opened before we reached it.Alice, Rose, and Iris were waiting inside.Still awake.Still dressed.Still entirely too alert for the hour.The moment they saw us, they rushed forward.Questions collided instantly.“Did you save them?”“Was there a helicopter?”“Did Alex do spy things?”“Did anyone get arrested?”Alex, for once, looked openly excited.No aloof expression.No careful calm.Just bright-eyed pride.“Yes,” he said, already stepping into the center of attention.And then he told them everything.Or at least his version of everything.Which somehow involved him finding the clue, helping with computers, meeting important people, and nearly becoming responsibl

The next three weeks went amazingly well.For the first time in what felt like forever, life settled into something almost peaceful. There were still businesses to run, statements to manage, and enemies who had not entirely disappeared, but none of it reached the fairy house with the same force as before.The children returned to school. Alice and Alex left each morning full of opinions, stories, and endless questions, then came back each afternoon with new ones. Their days quickly filled with lessons, friends, and the kind of small dramas only children could treat as world-ending.Iris stayed behind at the house. After everything she had been through, forcing her into a classroom too soon had never felt right. Instead, a private tutor came each day.To everyone’s surprise except perhaps my own, Iris learned at an astonishing pace. She absorbed information like dry ground taking rain, hungry for everything she had once been denied. Reading improved by the day. Writing became smoother.

Amber POVThe courtroom doors opened again.This time, no one whispered.No one moved.The entire room seemed to understand instinctively that whatever entered next would change everything.The judge stepped inside.He was not alone.Several high-ranking military officials accompanied him, their uniforms immaculate, their expressions unreadable.The atmosphere shifted so sharply it felt like the air itself had tightened.As he passed our row, the judge glanced at me and gave the smallest nod.Recognition.Confirmation.Then he continued toward the bench.Behind me, chairs creaked.Someone from the Becker table stood halfway before sitting again.The Vinny family had gone completely still.Even Jason, beside me, grew quieter.The judge took his place.Set down the file before him.Looked across the packed courtroom.Then removed his glasses with deliberate calm.“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.”His voice carried easily through the room.Measured.Final.“I am afraid this case wi

Amber POVI looked at Emory Watson carefully.He was controlled in the way only people used to carrying ugly truths ever were. No wasted movements. No unnecessary promises. No attempt to charm us into agreement. That, at least, I respected.So I asked the only question that mattered.“Can you guarantee our safety?”My voice did not shake.“Ours,” I clarified, “and our family’s.”Jason went still beside me. John Stait looked away first.Emory did not. He met my eyes directly and answered without hesitation.“No.”The word hit harder because it was honest.“We cannot guarantee anything.”A pause. Then, quieter—“But we will do our absolute best to make sure nothing happens to you.”Not comforting. Not polished. Real.I valued that more than reassurance.Emory glanced down the corridor once before continuing.“The threat has escalated.”Every instinct in me sharpened.“What changed?” I asked.He looked from me to Jason. Then back again.“I do not believe the Becker family was ever truly

Jason did not sit this time. He remained standing, arms crossed, eyes fixed somewhere past the walls. He wasn't looking at us—he was looking through the years.“My father remarried when I was three,” he said flatly. No emotion. Just a log entry. “When my brother Oscar was born…”A pause. Not hesitation. Calibration.“I was sent away.”John Stait frowned slightly. “Sent where?”Jason’s jaw tightened. “To live with extended family,” he said. “I was five.”The way he spat the words made it clear that "family" was just the legal cover.“I was never called by my name,” he continued. My chest tightened; the room felt suddenly smaller. “No letters. No phone calls. No contact.”Silence spread through the room like a cold front.“If I tried to ask…” His voice hardened, the first crack in the ice. “I was beaten.”No one moved. No one interrupted. We weren't just listening to a story; we were hearing the internal workings of the ring.“I was made to clean. To work. Small jobs, they said. To earn