Betrayed? I Upgraded to His Billionaire Brother novel Chapter 185

**TITLE: Pushing the Edge 185**

I cast a sidelong glance at her, my fingers deftly rearranging my cards, while Zane let out a hearty chuckle, his amusement evident. “She’s a beginner. Take it easy on her,” he said, his tone dripping with the kind of protectiveness that only a devoted husband could muster.

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, but I couldn’t help but roll my eyes inwardly.

Gavin strolled over, his long legs carrying him with a languid grace, and positioned himself right behind my chair. “Play the three of clubs,” he instructed, his voice smooth and casual.

I shot him a look, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. “A classy guy would keep his mouth shut and just watch,” I retorted, my tone sharper than intended.

A smirk danced at the corner of his mouth, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Who ever claimed I was classy?”

Realizing that bantering with him was a losing battle, I decided to retreat into silence, redirecting my focus to the cards in my hand.

Charles, the seasoned veteran of the game, handled his cards with an effortless ease, all while keeping up with the latest gossip that swirled around us. His gaze flicked toward Gavin, a knowing glimmer in his eyes. “Bro, are you still going to deny that engagement with Vera? Your lips seem a bit more… flushed than they were before you stepped out,” he teased, a sly grin spreading across his face.

My grip on the card between my fingers tightened, and my entire body tensed in response.

I had reapplied my lipstick before arriving; there was no way anyone could tell.

But Gavin’s…

Zane caught the slight hesitation in my expression and smiled knowingly. “Don’t know which one to discard?” he inquired, his voice low and encouraging.

“Yeah…” I exhaled, forcing myself to breathe steadily. Following his quiet suggestion, I discarded a five of clubs, beginning to build a flush, my heart racing with the thrill of the game.

Gavin chuckled softly, reaching over to playfully swat the back of Charles’s head. “Why are you so obsessed with my mouth? What, you want to kiss me or something?” he joked, his tone light but teasing.

Charles shuddered dramatically, his face contorting in mock horror. “Bro, let’s not go there. I don’t swing that way.”

The conversation deftly sidestepped the dangerous territory, and I released a silent breath of relief.

I was a quick learner with a solid memory, and with a sprinkle of beginner’s luck, I managed to cleanly outplay all three of them.

Chloe, ever the good sport, took her loss with grace. “Girl, what kind of luck is this? A winning hand every single time?”

I raised an eyebrow, a triumphant smile dancing on my lips. “You know the rules. A bet’s a bet.”

Zane’s gaze lingered on me, softening as it traced the lively contours of my face, a warmth blooming in his eyes.

—

The car door clicked shut behind Amelia with a soft thud, echoing in the stillness of the grand estate. Following a uniformed servant, she made her way toward the main reception hall, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

The Windsor estate was a sight to behold, dwarfing the Grayson property and making it seem almost… nouveau riche in comparison.

It wasn’t just the visible wealth that struck her; it was the profound sense of history that permeated the manicured grounds and the silent, ancient stones that surrounded her.

Before she could elaborate, Margaret’s expression darkened instantly. A single, sharp glance around the room was all it took. The servants understood immediately and hurried out, leaving the two women in a tense silence.

The butler lingered, closing the heavy doors behind the others, ensuring their conversation would remain utterly private.

Amelia didn’t miss the flash of icy intent in Margaret’s eyes. Fear coiled in her stomach, but she pressed on, determined. “That case is the reason you took her in, isn’t it?”

“Her parents… one was a narcotics officer involved in that case. The other was the lead prosecutor.”

Amelia left it there, knowing better than to delve deeper into what Margaret’s connection to the drug lord might have been or why she had gone to such lengths to torment Elara. Knowing too much could very well be a death sentence.

Margaret let out a light, dismissive laugh. “Evidence? You can’t just flap your lips and expect me to wear an accusation like that. The Windsor family has never dabbled in such… dark industries. Even if the police came to investigate, we have nothing to fear.”

She wasn’t wrong. The Windsors, with their ancestral ties to royalty, would never risk direct involvement in something so sordid.

But Amelia wasn’t flustered. “Fine. Then I’ll go ask Mr. Windsor himself. A man with his reach and resources… I’m sure he could unearth a few roots and find all the dirt attached.” She made a show of preparing to leave, her heart racing with the thrill of the game.

“Wait!” Margaret’s voice sliced through the air, sharp and commanding. She waited for the butler to re-enter before instructing, “Pour some tea for Ms. Amelia.”

The knot of tension in Amelia’s chest loosened slightly as she took a seat in a nearby sandalwood chair, adopting a more leisurely tone. “Madam Windsor, I assure you, I come today with no ill intent.”

The butler closed the door again and poured a cup of tea, placing it gently beside her. “For you, miss,” he said, bowing slightly.

Margaret’s gaze remained fixed on Amelia, a mixture of curiosity and wariness in her eyes. “Then what is your intention?”