A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother novel Chapter 212

Then property maps.

Then family structures.

I almost smiled faintly.

Most people would have panicked after a threat like Gabriel’s call.

Amber built war rooms.

“We start with public overlap,” she said immediately. “Events. Boards. Investments.”.

I nodded once.

“Controlled exposure,” I agreed.

If the Vincents wanted proximity, we would give it to them.

Carefully.

Strategically.

Enough to monitor them directly.

Not enough to expose Iris.

Amber began pacing slowly.

Something she only did when mentally connecting ten plans at once.

“Their weakness is image,” she murmured. “Families like theirs survive because people are afraid to question them publicly.”

I leaned against the counter watching her work through possibilities.

“So we make ourselves impossible to isolate,” I finished.

Amber pointed at me immediately.

“Exactly.”

The Vincents operated through shadows.

Quiet influence.

Fear.

Manipulation.

But attacking people constantly visible in the public eye?

That created risk.

Witnesses.

Questions.

“We become socially unavoidable,” Amber continued. “Business galas. Educational foundations. Investment circles.”

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A pause.

We let them think they’re slowly pulling us into their orbit.”

I understood the real meaning instantly.

While we mapped theirs.

I crossed my arms slowly.

“We’ll need access to their internal people.’

Amber nodded immediately.

“Assistants. Drivers. Security staff. Financial coordinators.”

Not to bribe.

To observe.

Patterns always existed around powerful people.

And powerful families became arrogant eventually.

I walked toward the command screen, eyes narrowing at the Vincent family structure Amber had already begun building.

“How much do we actually know about Gabriel?” I asked quietly.

“Not enough,” Amber admitted.

That alone irritated me.

I hated blind spots.

Amber zoomed further into the family records.

International investments.

Educational foundations.

Luxury developments.

Political connections.

Then she stopped suddenly.

“That’s interesting.”

I stepped closer immediately.

“What?”

Amber tapped one of the listed foundations slowly.

“The Vincents heavily fund elite youth programs.”

A cold feeling settled in my chest instantly.

Youth programs.

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Schools.

Heirs.

The pattern again.

Always the same pattern.

Amber looked up at me slowly.

“If this organization really began by targeting heirs…”

I finished the thought for her.

“Then the Vincents wouldn’t just monitor powerful families.”

A pause. 1

“They’d recruit around them.”

The room fell silent.

Because suddenly the school board membership felt far less innocent.

Amber looked toward the staircase briefly, where the children slept above us completely unaware that their lives had become part of something much larger than family rivalries.

Then she looked back at me.

“It’s time to stop hiding.”

And for the first time since this war began-

I agreed completely.

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Hunting

Amber POV

Jason was angry.

Not loud.

Not explosive.

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Which somehow felt far worse.

He paced through the fairy house command center like a man preparing for war, tension radiating from every movement while his eyes constantly flickered toward security feeds and perimeter alerts.

Twice, I caught him looking over his shoulder when absolutely nothing had moved.

That alone worried me more than he realized.

Because Jason did not scare easily.

And Gabriel Vincent’s call had affected him deeply.

We informed Emory and Mr. Stait immediately after settling the children upstairs for the night.

The secure video call connected within minutes.

The moment Gabriel Vincent’s name left my mouth, both men went completely still.

“He’s in the country?” Emory asked sharply.

Mr. Stait looked equally surprised.

“We had no notification of a Vincent family arrival,” he admitted grimly.

Jason laughed humorlessly from beside me.

“Well,” he said coldly, “now you do.” 1

The room fell silent for a moment afterward.

Emory leaned forward slightly on the screen.

“What exactly are you planning?”

Jason’s expression hardened immediately.

“We’re going on the offensive.”

I sighed softly beside him.

“Passive aggressively,” I corrected calmly.

Jason looked mildly offended.

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