Betrayed? I Upgraded to His Billionaire Brother novel Chapter 71

Chapter 71

“Down to every detail.”

“Yes.”

Quinn agreed but couldn’t help asking: “Why investigate again after so many years? Is something wrong?”

Zane replied: “I’m not sure. Just investigate first.”

He hoped he was being paranoid.

Elara’s POV

I set my phone down, and Chloe just stared at me, her expression a mix of fury and disbelief. She’d heard every word of Zane’s little performance.

“I cant believe it,” she finally muttered. “Zane always seemed so… gentlemanly. What a righteous scumbag.”

Then she turned to me, confused. “Why didn’t you just say yes?”

That would’ve complicated things,” I said, tucking my legs under me on the sofa. “I went to see the Graysons at noon. His mother said the divorce will be finalized in four days, tops.”

There was no need to involve him anymore. I didn’t want to create any more uncertainty for myself.

This way was cleaner. Better.

“Hey,” Chloe’s voice cut through my thoughts, casual but deliberate. “You gotten any more texts from… you know who lately?”

“You know who?”

“That ‘who‘–Zane’s irreplaceable big brother. The unshakable heir, Ethan.” She let out a low whistle. “You probably don’t follow financial news, but let me tell you, the business world’s still mourning his loss. They were betting he’d become the youngest Forbes number one in five years flat. Now?” She shrugged. “That spot’s definitely going to Gavin, his old rival. Zane’s no match for him–was never in his brother’s league, honestly.”

She shook her head. “No one thinks Zane has even a sliver of a chance of measuring up to what Ethan was, not in the next fifty years.”

A strange feeling settled in my chest.

It was true–I never really knew Ethan. Not really.

And yet… something about him felt familiar, like he’d never really left.

Was it just because Zane had started copying his style?

“…Haven’t gotten any texts from him lately,” I said, and the words left an odd hollow behind.

Right. It was probably because those texts kept coming even after he was gone. That’s why it felt like he was still here. Like he never really…

“There’s something I’ve always been curious about, though,” Chloe leaned in, her voice dropping. “What did he even used to text you about?”

“You can probably guess… but sorry, I can’t say. He made me promise not to tell anyone.”

She didn’t press, just hummed thoughtfully. Then her eyes lit up.

“Have you ever thought about… texting him back? Or calling?”

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Betrayed? I Upgraded to His Billionaire Droth.

Chapter 71

I froze.

“Next time–if another one comes through, you should try it,” she urged, a mischievous glint in her expression.

“…Okay. That’s… an interesting suggestion. I’ll think about it.”

For now, though, with Chloe’s investigation at a standstill, work was clearly where my focus needed to be.

And yet, I couldn’t shake it–the quiet, inexplicable hope that a new text from Ethan might still find its way to my phone.

The next day, I met Elias at the clinic first, and we headed to Windsor Group together.

Over the years, I’d passed by this building more times than I could count. But I’d never set foot inside–always actively avoiding it. If it weren’t for that chance encounter in Germany, I might have spent the rest of my life hoping I’d never see Gavin again.

“Elara?”

Elias’s voice pulled me back. He was smiling gently. “What’s on your mind?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just… never thought I’d get to be part of a project this big.”

Cancer drug development. The government’s top–priority medical initiative for the next three years.

If this succeeded… maybe I’d finally find real freedom.

When we arrived, the rest of the research team was already waiting in the conference room.

Talking with other scientists was usually pretty straightforward. Most of the real communication would happen during the actual development process, so there wasn’t much to discuss at this stage. After quick introductions, one of the staff led us to the lab to get familiar with the space.

Besides Elias and me, the team included three guys in their thirties and forties.

They gave me half–hearted nods before burying themselves in their work–not exactly the warmest welcome. Not that I cared.

As I turned to check the equipment, a low mutter came from the corner: “What a joke. Pushing forty and playing assistant to some girl in her twenties.”

“Ridiculous,” another voice chimed in, dripping with disdain. “Who knows how she even got in here? Charm? Connections?”

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