A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother novel Chapter 48

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Designed to impress.

Structured to relax – while business was quietly sealed behind closed doors.

Jason attended every strategy meeting.

Marcus handled the legal shields.

By the end of the week, the company existed not just on paper – but in momentum.

Staff recruitment began quietly.

Security contracts were upgraded.

Amber Au

Private membership invitations were drafted.

And the rumor mill started turning.

Amber Asher was building something.

Fast.

Too fast. 1

By the seventh day, two things became clear:

Adrian had not made a public move yet.

Someone was watching the construction site.

Twice, unfamiliar vehicles slowed near the property gates.

Once, a contractor reported being asked questions about ownership.

Jason doubled the security detail without telling me – I only noticed when I saw new faces near the entrance.

He was not smiling anymore.

He was calculating.

And somewhere out there…

So was Adrian.

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By day ten, my company was officially operational.

Contracts were signed. Staff were onboarded. Security systems were fully integrated.

The only position left to fill was my assistant

And that, somehow, felt like the most dangerous decision of all.

had no idea who to choose.

Too many candidates.

Too much exposure.

Too many risks.

With Victoria still working behind the scenes to damage both Jason’s and my public image – and having suffered no consequences for her plot against the children – tension continued to simmer. Madam Sun had requested patience. She had something big planned for Victoria.

That thought alone was unsettling.

Oscar and Amelie were still awaiting trial.

The properties were being prepared for a change in management.

The Heir Trials were moving forward.

The children’s security protocols had doubled.

One could say my plate was full.

And of course…

That was precisely when Adrian and his mysterious backer decided to act.

By the end of the second week, the rhythm of construction had become almost comforting.

Jntil it stopped.

The call came at 6:12 a.m.

“Ms. Asher… the marble shipment has been delayed.”

“Delayed how?”

“Redirected.”

I went still.

Within two hours, three more suppliers reported the same issue.

Steel framing.

Imported lighting fixtures.

Custom glass panels. 1

All “unavailable.”

All “unexpected shortages.”

1/4

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Marcus stormed into my office with a tablet in hand. “It’s coordinated. Not random. Warehouses are claiming inventory errors, but the materials have been reassigned to a priority buyer.”

Jason, who had been reviewing security footage beside me, didn’t look surprised.

“Who?” I asked. 1

Marcus hesitated.

“Becker Holdings.” 1

Of course.

By noon, every active renovation site under my name had slowed.

Crews stood idle.

Deadlines stretched.

Penalties loomed.

Adrian hadn’t attacked publicly.

He had attacked structurally.

Strangulation through supply chains.

And then he made it official.

At exactly 3:00 p.m., a press conference invitation was released across every major financial outlet.

Adrian stood behind a polished podium, confident, composed, deliberate.

“I am pleased to announce the launch of my new company,” he said smoothly. “A fully integrated property management, real estate investment, and construction firm – backed entirely by the White and Becker families.” 2

White.

And Becker.

The room shifted.

Those names carried weight.

“With our strategic partnerships,” Adrian continued, “we are offering an unprecedented opportunity to investors – an eighty percent discount on management and construction services for all new developments signed within the next quarter.”

Eighty percent.

It wasn’t business.

It was war.

No company could sustainably operate at that rate – unless the goal wasn’t profit.

Unless the goal was suffocation.

Jason muted the live stream halfway through.

“He’s not trying to win the market,” Jason said quietly. “He’s trying to bleed you.”

1 crossed my arms, studying Adrian’s expression frozen on screen.

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“He wants to slow my renovations,” I said. “Delay my asset transitions. Make it look like I can’t execute.” Marcus nodded. “And if your properties fail to transition smoothly before the next Heir Trial milestone…”

I finished the thought.

“My leadership score drops.”

Silence settled in the office.

This wasn’t a rumor campaign.

This wasn’t social sabotage.

This was financial warfare designed to undermine my legitimacy inside the family structure.

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