Betrayed? I Upgraded to His Billionaire Brother novel Chapter 160

**TITLE: Pushing the Edge 160**

**Chapter 160**

A group of grown men stood there, their faces painted with a mix of disbelief and discomfort. The bluntness of the reprimand had struck them like a cold slap, leaving them momentarily speechless.

By the time they managed to digest the situation, I had already retreated into the lab, my mind laser-focused on the task at hand.

Abbott raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity flickering in his gaze. “Don’t you think she has a point?” he asked, his tone laced with a blend of respect and incredulity.

“Shouldn’t you all get back to work?” I shot back, my voice steady. “Grown men, getting schooled by a young woman… doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, does it?”

As the murmurs of their conversation faded into the background, I immersed myself in my research.

Every moment I could inch closer to a breakthrough meant one more life saved, one more family filled with hope.

And on a personal level, it signified a step towards my own security and independence.

—

Later that evening, as I made my way home, I decided to take a small detour. I wanted to pick up some chicken noodle soup for Chloe—the good kind from that quaint little spot she adored.

While I had a natural talent for medicine, my culinary skills were, to put it mildly, dismal.

During my student days, when my wallet was perpetually empty and my stomach constantly grumbling, I survived on instant noodles. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner—easy.

After marrying Zane, during those tumultuous times when his affection seemed to ebb and flow unpredictably, I thought that cooking for him might bridge the gap between us.

That endeavor ended in a culinary catastrophe that was nothing short of inedible.

It’s clear that everyone has their own strengths; it’s rare to find someone who excels at everything.

Take me, for example: I have a genuine knack for medicine, which indicates that a career as a culinary artist was never in the cards for me.

Some people are destined to shine in the kitchen, and I’ve come to realize that I shouldn’t force my way into their spotlight.

After dinner, I made sure Chloe took her medicine before I began clearing the table, gathering all the trash bags scattered around the apartment with the intention of taking them downstairs.

I had already showered upon arriving home, so I was clad only in a nightgown, feeling cozy and relaxed.

Chloe, her voice still raspy from her fever, croaked a reminder, “Put on a coat. Don’t catch a cold too.”

I had a strong aversion to dark, confined spaces, which is why I always avoided the dumpsters in the underground parking garage. Instead, I opted for the trash bins on the first floor.

The chill outside was biting, and the wind howled like a restless spirit. Just a minute out there would feel like ice slicing through my skin.

Heeding Chloe’s advice, I wrapped myself in a long down coat, grabbed the trash bags, and opened the door—only to halt abruptly.

Despite Gavin’s assurances that Vera meant nothing to him…

Everything about her still felt so significant.

I grabbed my tablet, scrolling through options for a variety show, desperate to drown out the strange feelings gnawing at me. “Any plans for Christmas?” I asked Chloe, trying to keep my tone light and casual.

“Probably heading back for a couple of days tomorrow,” she replied, a look of pure reluctance crossing her features. She paused her game and threw herself at me, hugging my arm tightly. “Ugh, I wish your birthday was at Christmas. Then I’d have a solid excuse not to go back.”

My birthday was still a month away.

I gently patted her head. “It’s okay. If you’re not enjoying yourself back there, just come home early and keep me company.”

—

From a distance, Gavin could hear the commotion from his study. Curious, he walked out into the living room. His gaze landed on the unexpected presence in his dining area, and his expression hardened. “Have you forgotten basic boundaries?”

Vera shot him a look that was a mix of irritation and playful charm. “You’re the one who set a password I could guess.”

His passwords were notoriously easy to crack—most often containing the numbers 0125, though she had no clue what they represented. It wasn’t his birthday or any significant date she was aware of.

His face was inscrutable as Gavin strode to the foyer, swung open the front door, and began entering a new code right then and there.

Vera was genuinely taken aback. “Are you really going to guard against me like this now?”