A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother novel Chapter 179

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Upper hand

Amber POV

The darkness lasted less than a second.

It was all Alison needed.

The giant across from her had barely shifted his stance when she moved.

Fast.

Precise.

Explosive.

She drove forward, struck his throat, pivoted behind him, and used his own weight against him before he could even understand he was under attack.

He crashed to the floor like a felled wall.

Unconscious.

The crowd screamed.

Not in outrage.

In excitement.

They thought it was part of the show.

Idiots.

The light above the cage remained out.

I made sure of it.

Then the first gunshots rang out.

Sharp.

Rapid.

Echoing through the speakers.

The room at the base changed instantly.

Every operator straightened.

Every eye locked onto the feeds.

The diversion had begun.

And now-

It was time to get the children out.

Jason was already moving faster than anyone else.

He spoke into comms, rerouted cameras, unlocked side corridors, sealed two security doors, and projected escape

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paths onto the tactical screens.

Team Bravo, left stairwell.”

“Two hostiles near the holding cells.”

“Take corridor three. Avoid the main floor.”

No hesitation followed his commands. 1

Only movement.

I switched camera angles, feeding him every visual advantage I could.

Alex sat beside me, fists clenched, eyes huge, refusing to look away.

Then we found them.

The teenagers.

Grouped in a reinforced holding section behind the arena.

But they were not huddled.

Not crying.

Not waiting to be saved.

They were ready.

The moment the breach team reached the corridor, the teens moved first.

One girl jammed a guard’s wrist into the bars and stole his keycard.

A boy used the opening door to slam another attacker face-first into the frame.

Two more had already improvised weapons from broken bed supports.

I almost laughed.

“We were right,” I said.

Jason did not look away from the screens.

“They were never helpless.”

Within moments, the balance shifted completely.

The kidnappers had expected frightened hostages.

Instead, they got trained prodigies with a chance to fight back.

One by one, guards went down.

Doors opened.

The formation broke.

And the teenagers took the upper hand.

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It took nearly two hours for the teenagers to return to the base.

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Two long hours of shifting feeds, incoming reports, medical updates, and the kind of tension that only grows once danger should be over but is not yet confirmed.

Then the transport convoy finally arrived.

The operations floor changed at once.

Doors opened.

Voices rose.

Medics moved in.

Security widened the perimeter.

And one by one-

The missing teenagers came home.

They were exhausted.

Bruised.

Dirty.

But standing.

Alert.

Alive.

By then, every parent had been notified.

Some were already on site.

Others were arriving under escort.

The reunions that followed were too raw, too private, too human to look at directly for long.

Relief never looked graceful.

It looked like shaking hands, tears, anger, laughter, and people holding on too tightly.

John Stait was asked repeatedly for a statement.

Who found them?

Who led the breakthrough?

Who uncovered the dock deception?

Who identified the signal?

He refused to take the credit.

Openly.

Publicly.

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Without hesitation.

The first critical lead,” he said for everyone to hear, “was found by Alex.”

He placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“Six years old.” T

The room turned.

All of it.

Parents.

Officials.

Officers.

Recovered teenagers.

Everyone looked at the small boy beside me.

Alex remained stoic.

Face composed.

Expression as aloof as Jason’s on his coldest days.

If not for the top of his ears turning bright red, no one would have known he was embarrassed.

Then someone broke from the group of rescued teens and ran straight toward us.

Alison Michaels.

Before anyone could stop her, she threw her arms around Alex in a fierce hug that nearly knocked him backward.

He froze in total shock.

She pulled back laughing, bright and wild with relief.

Then turned toward the room and announced loudly-

“My friend found us!”

She pointed dramatically at Alex.

“He’s six years old!”

The room laughed through tears and exhaustion.

Even hardened officers smiled.

Alison was not done.

She put a hand on her hip and declared-

“Everyone should learn from me and make cool, intelligent friends too.”

That broke whatever restraint remained.

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Laughter spread across the entire room.

Even some of the parents laughed while wiping their eyes.

Alex looked deeply offended by being hugged in public.

The red at the top of his ears only intensified.

My chest tightened with pride so fierce it almost hurt.

Then the next shock arrived.

A secure call.

Passed directly to John.

He listened.

Straightened.

Then looked at Alex with renewed interest.

“The President has made a request.”

No one spoke.

“He would like Alex included in the program.

The room changed again.

“Not with the teenagers,” John added quickly.

“A new training group scheduled to begin in three weeks.”

I turned slowly toward Jason.

Too slowly.

Because I already knew.

He was completely against it.

The answer was written in every line of his body.

In the dangerous stillness that meant anger had gone silent.

But before he could speak, Alex did.

“I’d like to hear about it.”

I blinked.

Then Alex added, as if discussing snacks rather than state programs-

“And they should include Alice too.”

For one terrifying second, I thought Jason might actually explode.

The room seemed to brace for impact.

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