All Chapters of One Night With My Brother’s Worst Enemy : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The morning after the trial, Silas asked Vienna to walk with him. They went to the park near the river. The sun was bright. The air was cold. Silas moved slowly, his steps careful and deliberate. He was stronger than he had been in months, but he still tired easily. Vienna matched her pace to his. "Thank you for coming with me," he said. "Of course. I would do anything for you." He smiled. It was a thin smile, but it was real. "I know you would. That is why I need to talk to you." Vienna's heart tightened. "What is wrong?" "Nothing is wrong. I just need to tell you something. Something I should have told you a long time ago." They walked in silence for a while. The river sparkled beside them. The city hummed in the distance. "I have been thinking about Dad," Silas said finally. "About everything that happened. The trial. The verdict. The justice we finally got." "It is over now," Vienna said. "We can finally move on." Silas shook his head. "I do not think I can move on. Not

The lawsuit was over. The board had been defeated. Elena was gone. Justice had been served for her father. Vienna should have felt free. She should have felt light. But instead, she felt restless. The kind of restless that made her skin itch and her mind race and her body crave something she could not name. She tried to write. She sat at her desk for hours, pen in hand, but the words would not come. She tried to read. She picked up book after book, but the stories blurred together. She tried to sleep. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, while Ezra slept beside her. Nothing worked. Ezra noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything about her. "What is wrong?" he asked one evening, finding her on the balcony, staring out at the river. "Nothing." "Liar." She turned to look at him. "I do not know what is wrong. I just feel. Restless. Like something is missing." Ezra crossed the room and stood beside her. His hand found hers. "Maybe you need something," he said. "Like

The letter from Elena changed everything.Vienna carried it with her everywhere. She folded it carefully and tucked it into her journal, between the pages where she wrote about her father. She read it every night before bed, tracing the words with her finger, trying to make sense of the what ifs that haunted her.What if her father had lived long enough to accept the job offer? What if he had walked back into Vance Industries with his head held high? What if he had seen Ezra's face and forgiven him? What if he had been there to walk her down the aisle, to hold his grandchildren, to grow old and gray and happy? She would never know. The what ifs were a poison, slow and steady, seeping into her bones. She tried to fight them. She wrote about them in her journal. She talked to Ezra about them. She sat with Silas and remembered their father together. But the questions would not stop. Ezra noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything about her. "You are pulling away," he said o

The weeks after the breakdown were different.Vienna woke up each morning and made coffee. She sat in her writing room and wrote. She ate breakfast with Silas. She had lunch with Ezra. She worked on the foundation. She planned the wedding. She lived. It was not easy. There were still bad days. Days when the grief crept up on her and wrapped its cold fingers around her throat. Days when she could not get out of bed. Days when she stared at the wall and wondered if she would ever feel whole again. But those days were fewer now. She was learning to carry the grief instead of letting it carry her. Ezra was patient. He did not push. He did not demand. He just waited, steady and strong, the way he had always waited. Silas was supportive. He sat with her on the bad days. He held her hand. He reminded her that she was not alone. Vienna was grateful. --- On a Friday morning, Ezra asked her to come to the office. "The old office?" she asked. "The old office. I need to pick up some fil

Silas's recovery was slow but steady. Each day brought small victories. A few more steps without the cane. A few more minutes of standing without fatigue. A meal eaten without nausea. A laugh that reached his eyes. Vienna marked each one like a treasure, storing them in her heart for the days when fear crept back in. The fear never fully left. It lurked in the corners of her mind, waiting for moments of weakness. It whispered in the quiet hours of the night. He could still get sick. He could still leave you. You could still lose him. But Vienna had learned something over the past year. Fear was not a weakness. Fear was proof that she had something to lose. And she was done letting it control her. She started writing again. Not just her journal. The manuscript. The story of everything that had happened. The auction. The collar. The forty fifth floor. The boardroom. Spain. The foundation. The wedding. Silas's illness and recovery. She wrote it all. Ezra read it when she was done.