Betrayed? I Upgraded to His Billionaire Brother novel Chapter 202

**TITLE: Pushing the Edge 202**

What I truly wanted to express was this: it’s not merely about being good enough; it’s about how my grandmother would undoubtedly react to the situation.

“Elara, are you in there? I’m coming in!” Zane’s voice echoed through the door again, a mix of urgency and warmth.

The knocking persisted, each thud sending a jolt of anxiety through me. I could feel my heart racing as I moved to open the door, the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

“Are you in such a rush to leap into Zane’s arms?” Gavin’s tone was suddenly cold, his expression shifting to something darker, more foreboding. “Don’t you want what I have for you?”

I hesitated, glancing back at him, my curiosity piqued. Just as I was about to inquire what he meant, I caught sight of him pulling out a star-shaped chocolate from the pocket of his impeccably tailored coat.

The sight was almost laughable, yet he held it with a seriousness that contradicted its playful appearance. His long, elegant fingers cradled the childish confection as if it were a precious gem.

This chocolate was from a brand I had adored as a child, a treat that had all but vanished from the shelves of stores and the depths of the internet. I couldn’t fathom where he’d unearthed it, nor how he had managed to remember my childhood favorite after all these years.

For a fleeting moment, it felt as though he had reached into the depths of our shared past, pulling forth this long-lost delight, perfectly preserved and presented before me.

I found myself staring, momentarily lost in the nostalgia it stirred within me, before finally taking it from his hand. “Thanks…” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

But before I could withdraw my fingers, he captured my hand in his grip, his touch firm yet gentle. “That’s it?” he teased, his voice laced with a lazy, almost playful challenge. “No gratitude?”

The relentless knocking continued, each knock echoing in my chest, making my heart race even faster.

“Don’t brush me off,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing against my forehead and eyelids, sending a shiver down my spine.

In a moment of impulsive defiance, I gritted my teeth, yanked at his collar, and before he could fully comprehend my intentions, I stood on my toes and pressed a swift kiss against his collarbone.

His tall frame shuddered slightly at the contact, a surprised breath escaping him.

With my lips still tingling from the warmth of his skin, I hurriedly rebuttoned his shirt, my slender fingers moving with a practiced urgency. After the last couple of encounters, I had learned the importance of leaving no trace of lipstick behind.

Still caught in the aftermath of our brief exchange, I pulled the door open, only to nearly collide with Zane, who stood right on the threshold.

He instinctively reached out to steady my shoulder, and though I was aware of his presence, I couldn’t help but flinch and step back, my instincts kicking in before I forced myself to regain my composure.

“You’re here?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“Mm.” Zane’s gaze drifted past me to the slightly ajar door, his expression unwavering, a hint of curiosity lurking beneath the surface.

“Zane.” Just then, Marguerite appeared, her demeanor surprisingly pleasant. “Since you’re here, why not stay for dinner?”

I felt a familiar tension in the air. The old woman clearly hadn’t given up on her plans.

Or perhaps she was simply simmering with unexpressed emotions and wanted to unleash them on someone.

As we all moved toward the dining room, Zane pulled out a chair for me, a gesture that felt strangely comforting yet unsettling. I wasn’t accustomed to this side of him, and given our divorce, I was determined to keep my distance. Still, I had to maintain the facade in front of Marguerite.

As I settled into the chair, Zane adjusted it to ensure my comfort, his thoughtfulness shining through, as it always did.

Then, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and prepared to take the seat beside me.

But just as he was about to sit down, a cool breeze swept through the room—someone else had already claimed the chair.

Zane’s smile widened when he recognized the intruder. “I didn’t see you earlier—I thought you weren’t joining us for dinner.”

I didn’t need to look to know who it was; the familiar scent of cedar and vetiver enveloped me, a scent I had come to associate with him.

Gavin’s voice cut through the air, flat and unyielding. “This is my house. Do I need anyone’s permission for what I do?”