A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother novel Chapter 157

Because that was the truth.

This wasn’t about morality.

It was about control.

Consequences.

Choice.

I finished assembling the final external components, stepping back just enough to take in the structure.

The robot stood complete. 1

Except for one thing.

The chip.

I picked it up slowly, turning it between my fingers.

The final piece.

The key.

I lifted my gaze to the screen.

“What instructions did you give it?” I asked.

A pause.

Then-

“Use the chip,” Emilian said.

His smile returned.

“And find out.”

I studied him for a moment longer.

+15 Bonus

4/5

Then looked back down at the robot.

course.

Nothing was ever simple with him.

I stepped closer.

And inserted the chip.

The system activated instantly.

Lights flickered to life.

Soft at first-

then steady.

The robot powered on.

And whatever came next-

was already in motion.

Comments

Support

Share

+15 Bonus

5/5

Sloppy

+15 8chus

The robot powered on.

At first, nothing happened. A low mechanical hum filled the room as its systems initialized, faint lights flickering beneath its frame.

Then it moved.

Slowly, its head lifted, and a beam of light projected forward.

The wall came alive.

A video began to play.

Clips.

Fragments.

Moments.

My life.

I stood still, watching as scene after scene unfolded. Meetings, entrances, conversations, movements-moments I did not remember being observed.

But I had been.

Watched.

Recorded.

Collected.

My jaw tightened slightly.

This was not simple surveillance.

This was obsession.

The images shifted.

More recent now.

Clearer.

Closer.

And then-

I saw it.

Jason and I.

Standing in front of my building.

Kissing.

The moment played in full detail before transitioning to the next frame.

1/7

THODDY

My breath stilled for just a second.

at had been recent.

Very recent.

Which meant-

He had been close.

Closer than I thought.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides.

I pushed the reaction down.

Not now.

Jason was not beside me.

For a brief moment, the thought surfaced.

Where is he?

What did he find behind that door?

But I did not let it distract me.

I trusted him.

If he had not returned, it was because he was doing something important.

Something necessary.

I focused back on the projection.

Because that was what mattered now.

The image changed again.

The quality dropped.

Grainier.

Older.

And then-

I saw her.

Myself.

Younger.

Fifteen.

The memory surfaced instantly.

I remembered this.

+15 Bonus

217

I was standing in my room, facing a maid.

looked nervous.

Cornered.

“She had been selling my clothes,” I said quietly.

The video continued.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” my younger self said, her voice sharp and controlled.

The maid denied it.

Tried to lie.

I did not raise my voice.

I did not lose control.

I stepped closer.

Certain.

Unyielding.

Even then.

Even at fifteen-

I had been this way.

The video froze.

The image of my younger self remained projected against the wall.

Silence filled the room.

Then Emilian spoke.

“I have watched you grow.”

I inhaled slowly.

Not fear.

Something colder.

“You have always been like this,” he continued. “Sharp. Controlled. Uncompromising.”

A pause.

“Perfect.”

My expression did not change. 1

I kept my eyes on the projection.

On the girl I had been.

C

+15 Bonus

3/7

On the version of me he thought he understood.

Then I smiled.-

“You watched,” I said calmly.

A pause.

“But you never understood.”

The projection continued, more clips flickering across the wall.

More moments.

More proof of years of observation.

For a brief second, my mind flickered back again.

Jason.

Still gone.

Still unseen.

Good.

That meant he was working.

I trusted that.

And because of that-

I did not hesitate.

I did not look away. 1

Disgust curled low in my stomach, sharp and immediate, but I did not let it reach the surface.

He wanted a reaction.

He would not get one.

I tilted my head slightly, studying the images as if they were nothing more than data.

“Tell me something, Emilian,” I said calmly.

A pause followed.

He was listening.

“When did you decide to start watching me?”

Silence stretched.

I crossed my arms loosely, my posture relaxed, my tone almost casual.

“And how many times,” I continued, “did you manage to get into my room to record?”

The words left my mouth as if they carried no weight.

+15 8chus

4077

As if they did not make my skin crawl.

Aif the thought of it did not ignite something cold and violent inside me.

On the screen, Emilian’s expression shifted.

Not guilt.

Never that.

Recognition.