Husband Cheated, His CEO Younger Brother Loved Me

"Emily's back. You need to move out."

Benjamin White stumbled into the house, his suit a mess, eyes bloodshot, and reeking of booze. His words were cold and heartless.

Ophelia Taylor felt her heart drop, as if submerged in ice water.

She stood there, frozen, her fingers curling in silent distress.

It was their wedding anniversary. Ophelia had prepared a feast of his favorite dishes, waiting for five hours, from evening until late at night, just for Benjamin's promise that he would come home for dinner.

She looked up at him, her face pale, her voice trembling. "Isn't this our home?"

"We're legally married, so of course it's your home." He replied.

"Then why..." She asked.

"Emily's not well." He avoided her gaze. "Don't fight with her."

That name cut through her heart like a blade.

Four years of living together and sharing warmth and intimacy, shattered so easily.

He never loved her. That was the cruelest irony.

The bitterness and pain surged like a tide. 

She bit her lip, looking at the now cold meal, her voice breaking. "Let's divorce."

Before she could finish speaking, even as her words hung in the air, Benjamin's phone rang sharply, tearing through the oppressive silence of the room. 

He immediately pulled out his phone, and upon seeing the name on the screen, the remnants of impatience on his face quickly transformed into concern and urgency.

"Emily? What's wrong? Don't cry, take your time..." He answered the call, his voice filled with a tenderness and patience Ophelia had never heard before, even a hint of coaxing, starkly different from the coldness he showed her.

Ophelia stood there, watching him turn his back, listening to his gentle words to the person on the other end of the line. 

Her heart, already frozen, shattered completely under the contrast. She could even faintly hear the woman's tearful sobs.

"Okay, don't move. I'll be right there! Wait for me!" Benjamin's tone was anxious. 

He hung up, grabbed his jacket without looking at Ophelia, and prepared to leave.

"Benjamin..." Ophelia instinctively called out, her voice weak, tinged with a desperation she herself despised. 

Her words were unfinished; their conversation unresolved...

Benjamin paused but didn't turn around. 

He left behind a chilling statement. "We'll talk next time. I don't want to see you here tomorrow morning. Move out tonight."

"What?" Ophelia couldn't believe her ears, tears streaming down her face. 

Had she misheard? He was kicking her out on their wedding anniversary because of a call from Emily Johnson?

Benjamin, as if wanting to be even more resolute, walked briskly to the door while dialing another number on a different phone, his tone commanding. "Send some people over to help Ophelia pack. She'll move to Briarwood Apartments tonight. Yes, right now."

He had even arranged for movers. So eager and ruthless.

After confirming something on the other end, he hung up, his hand already on the door handle.

"Benjamin!" Ophelia finally found her voice, filled with sobs and despair. "Are you so desperate to clear the way for her? You can't even spare me a minute?"

Benjamin opened the door, and the cold night wind rushed in, making Ophelia shiver. 

He glanced back, the hallway light casting a cold shadow on his face. "Ophelia, don't make this harder on yourself. Briarwood Apartments isn't bad. Take care."

With that, he left without hesitation, slamming the door behind him.

The loud slam felt like a heavy blow to Ophelia's heart. 

She staggered back, hitting the edge of the cold dining table. 

The meticulously prepared meal now seemed like a grand, ironic funeral for her dead love and marriage.

Move out? Tonight? On their wedding anniversary?

The pain was overwhelming, like a thousand ants gnawing at her heart, far worse than when she had asked for a divorce.

He truly didn't care. He could be this cruel.

She didn't even cry, just felt an intense coldness, her teeth chattering. 

In the empty house, she was alone, staring at the cold meal, like a cruel joke abandoned by the world.

After what felt like an eternity, the doorbell rang. The movers Benjamin had called had arrived.

They were terrifyingly efficient.

The movers worked quickly and silently, with a cold professionalism. They even brought packing boxes. 

Ophelia watched them like a puppet, as they moved in and out of her home, packing away the traces of her life. Her clothes, her books, her little decorations... 

She silently kept back the photos with Benjamin and the handmade gifts he had given her.

She said nothing, her heart numb.

Taking one final look at the home that had held so many of her dreams and love, Ophelia dragged a small suitcase out the door. 

The rest of her belongings would be sent directly to Briarwood Apartments.

The night was deep.

As she stepped out of the building, a cold, wet sensation hit her face. 

It had started to rain heavily, large drops splashing on the ground, soaking her shoes and pants.

The early summer night rain was bone-chilling.

She stood under the eaves, staring at the dense curtain of rain, unsure where to go. Briarwood Apartments? That cold, unfamiliar place? She didn't want to go there at all.

The smell of rain and the blurred world around her made her feel even more desolate.

Just as she took a deep breath, ready to run into the rain to hail a cab, a pair of bright headlights pierced through the rain, approaching.

A black Bentley Continental GT quietly pulled up to the curb in front of her. The sleek car reflected the cold gleam of the rainwater.

The driver's door opened, and a large black umbrella was the first thing she saw, creating a dry space. Then, a tall man stepped out of the car.

The sound of the rain blurred the world.

Ophelia instinctively looked up.

The man wore a finely tailored dark suit, his broad shoulders and slim waist exuding confidence. He walked steadily towards her, the rain beating against the umbrella, creating a mist that obscured his face but highlighted his imposing presence.

He stopped a step away from her.

The umbrella tilted slightly, revealing his face.

It was an exceptionally handsome face, with deep-set features and sharp lines, bearing a faint resemblance to Benjamin but entirely different. 

Benjamin's beauty was flamboyant, while this man's was more reserved, with a deeper, more elusive sharpness. 

His eyes were calm, like a deep, unfathomable pool, now focused on her with a subtle scrutiny and... perhaps a hint of concern.

What startled Ophelia was that he looked familiar. 

He was Benjamin's half-brother, the White family's rarely seen but highly regarded second son—William White. 

She had seen him in a few family photos, but he always seemed to be on the periphery, yet impossible to overlook.

But why was he here? At this time? In this place?

William's gaze moved from her pale face to her solitary suitcase, then to the open door of her now cold home. His eyes flashed with understanding, but he asked nothing.

He simply tilted the umbrella towards her, completely shielding her from the wind and rain, while his own shoulder was exposed, quickly getting wet.

"The rain is heavy." His voice was deep and soothing, clear against the sound of the rain, carrying a calming power. "Where are you going? I'll take you."

In this cold, hopeless night, Ophelia felt she had finally grasped a lifeline that wasn't from Benjamin, even if it was uncertain.

She looked at his rain-soaked shoulder, his calm yet unyielding gaze, and the strength she had been holding onto almost crumbled.