A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother novel Chapter 74

I blinked.

“Because… preparation?” I offered vaguely.

Alex crossed his arms, very serious now.

“Our textbook says it only takes nine months.” 1

Jason choked on his water.

I stared at Alex.

“You have a textbook that says that?” 1

“It’s biology,” he replied calmly. “Nine months.” 2

Alice nodded enthusiastically. “Nine months isn’t two years.”

Jason cleared his throat and leaned forward, recovering faster than I did.

“Well,” he said evenly, “the cooking part may take nine months…”

I shot him a warning look.

“…but,” he continued smoothly, “you have to prepare everything first.””

Alex narrowed his eyes.

“Prepare what?” 1

Jason didn’t hesitate.

“A stable home. Schedules. Space. Emotional readiness. Financial forecasting.”

I blinked.

Alice looked confused.

“That sounds boring.”

“It’s extremely important,” Jason replied seriously.

I finally found my voice.

“Yes. Very important. You don’t just bake a cake without preheating the oven.”

Jason’s thumb brushed slowly against my hand under the table.

“Or without choosing the right recipe,” he added quietly.

I felt heat creep up my neck.

Alex nodded slowly.

“That makes sense.”

Alice sighed dramatically.

“Fine. But I’m going to start practicing.”

“For what?” I asked cautiously.

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“For being the best big sister.”

Jason and I exchanged a look

Two years had sounded like a joke

A buffer.

A safe distance.

But the way he was looking at me now-

It didn’t feel theoretical.

It felt like planning.

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Recipe

The rest of the day slipped by faster than I expected.

Meetings.

Homework.

A quick call with Clara.

A race around the garden that I absolutely lost to Alice.

By the time dinner arrived, the house was louder than usual.

Mr. and Mrs. Sun were visiting.

Grandfather, in what he declared a “moment of culinary rebellion,” decided he would cook personally.

It was… ambitious.

The smoke alarm disagreed.

Fifteen chaotic minutes later, we were opening windows and ordering Chinese. 1

Jason leaned back in his chair, amused.

“Mr. Asher, perhaps empire management is more your strength.”

Grandfather gave him a look.

“Leadership requires diversification.”

Mrs. Sun waved a hand dismissively as she rearranged the takeout containers.

“At least no one is poisoned this time.”

Grandfather muttered something about ovens conspiring against him and last time not being his fault.

Dinner settled into a comfortable rhythm.

Laughter.

Plates clinking.

Alice attempting to use chopsticks with dramatic flair.

Then Mr. Sun cleared his throat.

Jason looked up immediately.

“When are you two planning to host a proper wedding celebration?” his father asked calmly.

I paused mid-bite.

Jason didn’t.

“Define proper.”

Mr. Sun folded his hands on the table.

“A wedding is not just a romantic gesture. It secures funding. Strengthens alliances. Improves public image. Consolidates influence.”

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Of course it did.

Mrs. Sun nodded slightly.

“There are investors who would prefer ceremony.”

Jason leaned back, unreadable.

“We are already married.”

“Yes,” Mr. Sun agreed evenly. “Legally.”

Grandfather sipped his tea, watching carefully.

“But a public celebration,” Mr. Sun, continued, “signals stability.”

I felt Jason’s hand brush against my knee under the table.

Before either of us could respond-

Alex cleared his throat.

Everyone turned.

He looked very serious.

“Actually,” he said, “a wedding is one of the important steps before making a baby.”

The table froze.

I closed my eyes. 1

Jason inhaled slowly.

Mrs. Sun blinked.

Grandfather coughed violently.

Mr. Sun stared at his grandson.

Alex nodded confidently.

“I looked it up.”

Alice leaned forward eagerly.

“So we need the wedding first?”

Jason rubbed his temple.

“Alex…”

“It said commitment is important,” Alex continued, completely unbothered. “And weddings are about commitment, and you said it would take 2 years.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

Mrs. Sun recovered first.

“Well,” she said delicately, “that is… one interpretation.”

Jason finally leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

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“Awedding,” he said calmly, “is about celebration. Not permission.”

Alex considered that.

“So we don’t need it?”

Jason glanced at me briefly.

“No,” he answered carefully. “We don’t need it.”

Mr. Sun raised a brow.

“But,” Jason added smoothly, “we might want one.” 1

That shifted the energy.

I felt my stomach tighten slightly.

Mrs. Sun smiled faintly.

“A celebration,” she said, “can be powerful.”

Grandfather leaned back in his chair.

“You two will do what you want.”

Jason’s fingers intertwined with mine under the table.

“Exactly.”

Alice, who had been unusually quiet for a full thirty seconds, suddenly looked up at Mrs. Sun.

“Grandma,” she asked brightly, “what kind of cake do you like?”

Mrs. Sun smiled gently. “Chocolate, usually. Why?”

Alice nodded seriously.

“Good. Because we’re baking one.”

Jason froze.

I slowly lowered my chopsticks.

Mrs. Sun blinked. “You are?”

“Yes,” Alice continued confidently. “I’m getting a little brother or sister.”

Silence.

Alex nodded as if confirming official minutes.

“And they said,” Alice added, pointing casually between Jason and me, “that in order to make the baby, they have to plan it, mix the ingredients, and let it bake. Like a cake.”

I closed my eyes. 1

Grandfather stopped mid-sip.

Mr. Sun’s expression did not move.

Mrs. Sun turned her head slowly.

All three of them

Grandfather.

Mr. Sun.

Mrs. Sun.

Turned toward Jason and me.

All eyebrows raised.

Jason did not look at them.

He looked at me.

And squeezed my hand under the table.

“Well,” he said evenly, “it appears our internal planning discussions have leaked.”

Grandfather leaned back in his chair.

“Youth these days,” he muttered again.

Mr. Sun cleared his throat.

“Two years,” he said dryly. “Was that the timeline Alex was talking about?”

I stared at my plate.

Jason did not miss a beat.

“It is a team effort.”

Mrs. Sun’s lips twitched.

“Oh, I am well aware.”

Alice beamed proudly.

“So we’re baking it?”

Jason looked at me again.

That look.

Not pressure.

Not demand.

Possibility.

“We’re… considering the recipe” he replied.

And somehow, that answer felt dangerously close to yes.

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