The Betrayed Affair: Loving my Husband's Brother

Chapter 3

The room seemed to blur as I grappled with the sudden rush of emotions. My heart raced, and a cold shiver ran down my spine. The once-forgotten sensations of that night played in my mind like a haunting melody. I couldn't tear my gaze away from Logan, my mind struggling to reconcile the past with the present.

Our eyes locked when he took the seat directly opposite me, and despite the years, the recognition was instant. But instead of mirroring my shock, his lips twisted into a knowing smirk.

"I thought you said you weren't coming, Lo," Amanda's voice cut through the fog, snapping me back to the present. The smirk on Logan's face widened as his gaze danced from me to Amanda, finally settling on Mason, whose glare could have melted ice. He ignored Amanda's question, drawling out, "Congratulations in order, I suppose?"

I felt the words hit me like a physical blow. His voice, deeper than I remembered, sent echoes of past conversations down my spine. Why hadn't I noticed the subtle accent before? Blinking away the rising tide of memories, I realized his eyes were back on me, scanning me with an unnerving intensity. I knew exactly what he was thinking, his gaze stripping me bare.

“Look at the mirror, Precious. Watch how much you love me f*****g you.”

Panic gnawed at me as I tightened my legs, but I wouldn't let it win. Glancing between the brothers, the contrast couldn't be starker. Mason was polished, Ivy League all the way, while Logan exuded an edgy charm that felt both dangerous and strangely alluring.

Ruth’s awkward laughter filled the tense silence. "Are we going to stare at each other all night or are we going to eat?” I had never been more grateful for my mother than at that moment.

Richard cleared his throat, his eyes lingering on Logan with a pride I had never seen directed at Mason. "Of course, let's proceed.”

I stole a glance at Logan, his lips quirking as if he heard my internal war cry. A thrill shot through me, a delicious mix of trepidation and anticipation. There was only one thought running through my mind– I was screwed.

"So... Lo, how was your flight?" Amanda's chipper voice pierced the thick silence, startling me out of my frozen state.

Fiona's sharp retort followed like a whipcrack. "Amanda! We do not speak at the table."

As if mimicking Fiona's tone, Ruth muttered, "We do not speak at the table," then snapped her head up, realizing she’d spoken aloud. Her awkward laugh filled the void, only to be met with Fiona's stormy glare. My eyes darted to my father, Victor, his gaze fixated on the bottle of wine like a hawk eyeing its prey. I knew it was only a matter of time before he found his excuse to crack it open.

Just then, Logan chimed in, his voice smooth as melted honey. "That was a lovely imitation of my mother, Mrs. Williams, if I do say so myself. You really captured the...bitterness."

I gasped, the air crackling with tension. Mason, who had been unusually quiet, exploded. "Logan, if you can't behave, then leave. Show some respect to Mother and don't ruin this dinner."

Logan feigned mock innocence, tipping his glass toward Mason. "Of course, big brother." He then turned to Fiona, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Apologies, Mother."

Amanda, caught between her warring brothers, met my gaze for a fleeting moment. In that silent exchange, I knew we were united in our dread. I looked to Richard for help, but he remained stubbornly silent, focused on his meal.

The silence was suffocating, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, Logan broke it, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Sophia. What a beautiful name." His eyes seemed to drill into mine, sharing a secret only we understood.

I stammered, a blush creeping up my neck. "Thank you."

Logan leaned closer, pressing each syllable of my name like a delicious treat. "So... Sophia," he drawled, "how did someone as stunning as you end up with my uptight brother?"

"Logan. I swear to--" Mason stood to his feet but Richard’s authoritative voice finally cut through, "Mason, enough! We have guests, and we will not swear at the table.”

I blinked, surprised. Mason was getting the scolding when Logan was being the asshole. Richard continued, staring at us one after the other, “I have had just about enough of this. Everyone eat your dinner in silence and let us get this night over with.”

Mason, his jaw clenched tight, glared at Logan across the table. Logan, unfazed by the reprimand, simply raised an eyebrow in challenge. Amanda, perched on the edge of her seat, seemed to vibrate with suppressed anticipation, her eyes darting between her brothers and from the expression on her face, I knew it was a normal occurrence.

The silence stretched on, an eternity measured in heartbeats. Finally, Fiona, her face pinched with disapproval, broke the tension. "Richard is right," she said in a clipped voice. "This meal has become…unpleasant. Let us at least finish it in some semblance of civilized company."

A grudging nod of agreement went around the table, except for Victor, who seemed to take Richard's words as a personal insult. He muttered something under his breath, his gaze fixed on the untouched bottle of wine. I knew it was only a matter of time before he found his excuse to crack it open.

Determined not to let the night spiral further into chaos, I pushed my plate forward and attempted to focus on my food. The normally delicious roast chicken tasted like cardboard in my mouth. My mind, however, was far from the present. Logan's presence was a constant ache in the back of my mind, his words echoing in my ears like a haunting melody.

"How did someone as stunning as you end up with my uptight brother?"

Suddenly, a loud crash shattered the fragile peace. Victor, unable to resist the call of the bottle any longer, had knocked over his glass of water, the liquid spilling across the tablecloth and him.

Fiona gasped, clutching her pearls dramatically. Richard sighed, rubbing his temples in exasperation. Mason scowled, his fist clenched around his knife. And Amanda, abandoning all pretense of decorum, burst into laughter. My eyes met with Logan’s who seemed to be having the time of his life, the smirk on his lips growing.

Victor swayed on his feet, his apologies slurred by hiccups as Ruth tried to steady him. "We're just going to have this cleaned up," she said, supporting her husband. Almost immediately, the butler appeared out of nowhere, leading them away. At that moment, I wished for the ground to open and swallow me.

"What a clumsy fool," Amanda said, still laughing.

"Amanda," Mason growled, his voice tight, his eyes warning his sister while he squeezed my hand under the table, a silent plea for my forgiveness.

A lump rose in my throat, threatening to choke me. Tears pricked at my eyes. I was embarrassing Mason in front of his family, and I felt powerless to stop it.

Amanda shrugged, her eyes scanning the room. "What? We're all thinking it, right, Lo?" she said, seeking his approval but instead, his smile faltered. "Do not insult her parents, Amanda," he said, his voice low but firm. "It's beyond rude."

Her bravado crumbled. She stared at everyone, their faces etched with shock at Logan's unexpected defense. My nostrils flared, anger replacing the earlier bravado. "I have a right to speak my mind," I spat. "And if you can't handle it, then maybe Mason shouldn't have proposed to a gold digger in the first place."

The words hit me like a physical blow. The air seemed to crackle with the tension. Mason opened his mouth, but Logan was faster. "Get out," he said, his voice laced with steel.

Amanda's defiance crumbled. "What?" she stammered, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Leave this room and go to your room," Logan's voice remained steady, unwavering. "And you will not leave the house, except for school, for the next month."

Color drained from Amanda's face. She opened her mouth to protest, then, with a frustrated cry, slammed her plate on the table and stormed off.

I rose, tears blurring my vision. "I need to check on my parents," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mason reached for my hand, his eyes filled with sorrow. "Sophia," he murmured, his voice thick with apology.

"I won't be long," I said, a single tear tracing a warm path down my cheek. "Please."

Mason nodded, his hand falling away reluctantly. I turned, tears blurring my vision, and stumbled out of the room, the sounds of the argument fading behind me. I found an empty room and collapsed onto a chair, the tears finally falling freely. The sobs wracked my body, each one a release of the pent-up emotions – the humiliation, the anger, the fear.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to pull myself together. I straightened my back, wiping away the tears, and turned around. And there he was, standing in the doorway, his eyes holding a darkness that shook me to the core.

He was no longer the charming, mischievous Logan from the dinner table or the night he took my virginity but the ruthless billionaire he was whispered to be.

His voice was low rumble, devoid of warmth

, dripping with a finality that chilled her to the bone. "You cannot marry my brother."