Betrayed I Upgraded to His Billionaire Brother novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

It was obvious he’d heard every word I’d said. The male officers were looking at him with a mix of pity and secondhand embarrassment. Watching Zane–the spoiled, privileged heir who’d never faced real consequences–squirm under their gazes? His frown was so deep it looked carved into his

face. Good.

And me? Let him be pissed. After all those times he made me feel small, all those moments of self doubt he never noticed or cared about. Why should I spare a single thought for his feelings now? He never wasted any on mine. Some people just don’t deserve your empathy.

“Mr. Grayson,” the officer greeted him. “To be frank, this seems like more of a domestic issue. It would be best for everyone if this could be settled

privately.”

“Let the police handle it,“Even if it was a momentary impulse, doing something wrong comes with a price.” he said, his voice clipped.

With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

I almost wanted to laugh. You do the crime, you pay the time. Yeah, that sounded about right.

So whether it was Amelia or Zane himself… they were both going to settle their dues.

Cool as you please, I sat through the officer’s final, routine questions. Only when I was officially dismissed did I finally get up and walk away, leaving the mess behind me.

The wind outside the police station bit through my coat, a harsh, winter chill that seeped straight into my bones. I hugged my arms around myself, the thin wool of my camel trench coat doing little to keep the cold at bay. Standing there on the steps, I felt exposed and utterly alone.

Then I saw it–the familiar silhouette of Zane’s Maybach, sleek and imposing, parked right at the curb. The window slid down, revealing his sharp profile. He was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, every line of it screaming old money and.control, a stark contrast to my own disheveled state. His expression was granite.

“Tomorrow is Grandmother’s birthday banquet,” he said, voice clipped and devoid of warmth. “I’ll pick you up. We’re going back to the old mansion together.”

Finally, I understood why he’d come. Not for me. For Amelia.

No matter how badly things shattered between us, for her sake, he’d still seek me out. He needed the perfect picture–the loving couple returning to the family fold.

1

But this time, the act felt like too much. “I’m not free tomorrow,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. I needed to focus on the Windsor Group project. My future, my freedom, depended on it.

Zane let out a cold, dismissive laugh. “Not even willing to pretend anymore?”

Just as I drew a breath to reply, my phone screen lit up. Two new messages. From Victoria.

The first was text: [The divorce papers are ready. Don’t forget to come to Grandmother’s birthday tomorrow.]

The second was a photo. A clear, crisp image of the finalized divorce certificate.

The moment my eyes found my name printed there, a weight I’d carried for years simply… vanished. A genuine, effortless smile touched my lips for the first time in months. When I looked back at my soon–to–be ex–husband, my demeanor had shifted entirely.

“I’m free tomorrow.”

Zane seemed thrown for a second–perhaps by my smile, perhaps by my sudden change in tone. For a brief moment, he just stared, as if truly seeing me. “What did you say?”

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