My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 230: More Questions Left Unanswered

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I continued to watch Logan across the ballroom...tall, silver-haired, in a perfectly fitted suit, standing next to Keith like they were old pals from some battle. Ethan, invited as family, hovered awkwardly nearby.

His dark suit was immaculate, but his expression was tight, as if he’d rather be anywhere else. Our eyes met for just a quick moment across the busy room; he gave me a nearly imperceptible nod before looking away. Adrien’s fingers pressed a bit firmer on my back—just a hint, but enough to catch my attention.

Then two girls appeared in front of us as if summoned by ambition alone. One had dirty-blonde hair swept into a neat updo, her brown eyes glimmering with practiced charm; the other had dark hair falling in perfect waves, blue eyes assessing us like we were a business investment.

Both wore dresses that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe...one in deep purple, the other in shiny rose gold.

"Adrien Fell," the blonde said, extending her manicured hand, her entire demeanor exuding confidence. "I’m Victoria Langford. My parents own Langford Digital—the online banking platform. And this is my friend Celeste Moreau."

The dark-haired girl smiled, showcasing perfect teeth, her posture like that of a runway model.

Adrien shook her hand, his expression stoic but his shoulders stiff under the tux. "Nice to meet you."

Victoria’s gaze swept over him as if evaluating fine art, her smile brightening a bit too much, as if she was slightly more interested than she should be.

"We’ve heard so much about you. The Fell heir, right? And this must be..." Her eyes shifted to me, her smile tightening just enough to show she was trying to categorize me. "...your stepsister?"

The word felt like a pebble dropped into a still pond, sending ripples through my chest. I felt Adrien’s hand press a little firmer against my back, stabilizing, but the jealousy I had been trying to ignore all night flared up hot and unwelcome.

"Faye," I offered, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace, my fingers gripping the stem of my cider glass until the crystal bit into my palm.

Celeste tilted her head, her blue eyes narrowing slightly as if I were an interesting puzzle she didn’t expect. "You’re new to all this, aren’t you? Must be quite an adjustment."

I opened my mouth to say something polite, maybe even witty to deflect her condescension, but Victoria had already turned back to Adrien, leaning in just a tad too close, her perfume enveloping him like an invasion.

"So, tell me," she purred, locking her brown eyes on his with a practiced flirtation that made my teeth clench, "what’s it like being the future most eligible bachelor in Willow Haven? I bet you have stories."

Adrien’s smile stayed polite, but I could catch a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, the way his jaw tensed as he shifted away from her slightly. "Not really. Just trying to survive high school like everyone else."

Victoria laughed, too loud, too bright, brushing his arm in a way that felt accidental yet calculated. "Oh, come on. You must have girls throwing themselves at you left and right."

I felt a heat creep up my neck. Jealousy? Annoyance? Both? I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that I needed to escape that moment.

I snagged a glass of sparkling cider from a passing tray...non-alcoholic, because the last thing I wanted was liquid courage making me say something stupid and muttered,

"I’m going to... mingle. Catch you later."

Adrien’s eyes flicked to me, a silent question in them because he knew there was no way in hell I’d ever mingle in a room with ninety percent snobs, his hand lingering on my back for a moment longer than necessary, fingers pressing gently as if he wanted to pull me back.

But he was stuck. Victoria was already launching into a story about her family’s latest merger, her gestures animated, her hand resting on his arm longer than needed, and it felt rude to walk away from a potential investor or business partner mid-sentence.

He gave me the tiniest nod...go and I slipped away, heart racing, the glass cool against my palm as I navigated through the crowd.

I kept Logan in my line of sight as I moved. He was still with Keith, laughing at something, glass of champagne in hand, his silver hair glittering under the chandelier light like a crown.

Ethan had drifted off to speak with someone else, leaving Logan momentarily alone by the dessert table, which was heaped with towers of macarons and chocolate sculptures glimmering under the spotlights. This felt like my chance.

I edged closer, pretending to examine a towering ice sculpture shaped like a Christmas tree draped in edible gold leaf, the chill from it raising goosebumps on my arms. Logan turned, spotting me, and his polite smile wavered for a heartbeat—recognition? Suspicion? I couldn’t tell.

Before I could decide whether to approach, Keith’s voice came booming over the speakers, smooth and authoritative, cutting through the chatter.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, lifting his glass from the stage, the microphone amplifying his voice throughout the ballroom, "a toast. To my late wife, Joanne Gillian, whose memory inspires us all and to my beautiful current wife, Helen Valentine, who’s stood by me through every storm. And to loyal friends who’ve stood by through tough times..." 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

He gestured toward Logan with a knowing smile, the spotlight catching a glint in his eye. "People like Logan Seymour, who’ve helped us navigate the roughest waters."

The room erupted in polite applause, glasses clinking like distant bells. Logan raised his glass, his smile tight and forced, his body language stiff, avoiding eye contact as if enduring rather than reveling in the attention.

I raised an eyebrow, the coffee I had earlier suddenly feeling bitter in my mouth. So Keith was tight with Joanne’s lawyer? That seemed... odd. Too close, the kind of close that made my instincts tingle, a quiet alarm ringing in the back of my mind.

Okay things just got extra confusing.

As the applause faded, I overheard two guests whispering behind me, their voices low yet clear in the brief silence.

"Good to see him and Mr. Seymour back on terms after that messy business six years ago."

"Indeed. Some things are better left buried, aren’t they?"

My pulse quickened, their words feeling like puzzle pieces falling into place. What messy business? Six years ago? That was the year Joanne had died.

The timeline fit a little too perfectly. I turned slightly, pretending to adjust my earring, catching a glimpse of them...two older men in sharp suits, one twirling his champagne flute like he was chatting about the weather instead of something that sounded suspiciously like a cover-up.

I slipped away from the dessert table, my heart racing against my ribs, the champagne flute forgotten in my hand as I found a quieter spot near the balcony doors.

The gala swirled around me, laughter like glass shattering, clinking glasses echoing like distant gunshots, orchestral music drifting through the air like smoke, but all I could focus on were those words.