The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 105

Orion

Watching Aveline rush out of the café like she was fleeing a crime scene filled me with concern, but I couldn't abandon my post now. My mysterious wife could appear at any moment, and after six years of this ridiculous arrangement, I wasn't about to miss our first meeting because of someone else's dramatic exit.

But first, I had to deal with the overly enthusiastic young woman currently treating my expensive jewelry like her personal treasure chest.

I firmly extracted the Laurent bag from Sera's hands, stepping back to create some much-needed distance between us.

"Please don't give people the wrong impression," I said sternly. "This isn't what it looks like."

Sera's laugh was bright and seemingly innocent.

"Oh, come on, Orion! I was just playing around. You looked so serious when you saw me that I thought I'd try to cheer you up! Besides, when am I ever going to get the chance to look at Laurent originals again?"

"You said you just wanted a quick look," I replied coolly. "That was five minutes of detailed examination."

"Well, I've never held jewelry worth more than my dad's car before!" she said with exaggerated excitement. "Of course I wanted to appreciate the craftsmanship! And your grandfather told me I should treat you like a good friend—no need to be all formal and stuffy."

Her casual mention of my grandfather's instructions irritated me more than it should have. It was one thing to be manipulated into spending time with her for business reasons; it was another to have her use that manipulation as an excuse for inappropriate behavior.

"We're both adults, Sera," I said firmly. "Which means we need to maintain appropriate boundaries, regardless of what my grandfather might have suggested."

"Okay, okay, I get it," she said with a theatrical pout that quickly transformed back into her trademark smile. "I'll behave myself. But speaking of boundaries..." Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "That woman who just ran out of here—that was Ryan's teacher, wasn't it? Miss Aveline?"

I felt my jaw tighten. "How did you know who she was?"

"Just a feeling!" she said brightly, tilting her head with innocent curiosity. "The way she looked at me, I thought she might actually try to scratch my eyes out. You two definitely have some kind of history, don't you?"

The directness of her observation caught me off guard. Despite her youthful appearance and seemingly innocent demeanor, Sera was clearly more perceptive than I'd given her credit for.

"That's none of your business," I said curtly.

"So you do!" she said triumphantly. "I knew it! The tension in here when she saw us together was so thick you could cut it with a knife."

Her obvious delight in the drama surrounding my personal life was beginning to grate on my nerves.

"And what if we do have history?" I asked, my voice taking on a warning edge. "What exactly are you implying?"

Sera's expression shifted slightly, a flash of something that might have been jealousy or possessiveness crossing her features before she covered it with another bright smile.

"Nothing! I mean, your love life is totally your own business. I'm just saying, that misunderstanding she just had looks pretty deep to me. Not the kind of thing that's easy to explain away, you know?" Her voice remained light and cheerful, but there was something almost satisfied in her tone. "But hey, if you want some advice on how to handle it, I'd be happy to help!"

I felt my jaw clench, irritation flashing through me at her presumptuous offer, but before I could formulate a sharp response, she was already waving at the barista.

"Two espressos, please!" she called out cheerfully. "Make them doubles—we're going to be here for a while!"

The presumption in her voice—the assumption that I would be staying to have coffee with her instead of waiting for my actual appointment—pushed me past my limit.

"I'm sorry, Sera," I said, standing abruptly. "But I have an important meeting in a few minutes. Enjoy your afternoon."

I walked away from her table, moving to a spot near the back of the café where I could watch the entrance without being distracted by her attempts at conversation.

But as I passed the table where Aveline had been sitting, something on the floor caught my attention.

White rose petals. Dozens of them, scattered across the dark wood like snow, some of them crushed beyond recognition.

I stopped and stared at the destruction, a cold realization beginning to creep up my spine.

Aveline had been wearing a black dress. A stunning, perfectly fitted black dress that had made her look like a goddess of revenge or seduction.

And she'd been carrying something when she'd fled the café—something she'd been trying to hide when I'd approached her table.

*White roses.*

The words from my wife's email echoed in my memory: *I will be easily identifiable by the white roses I'll be carrying and my black dress.*

"No," I whispered to myself. "No fucking way."

My phone buzzed with an incoming email, and I fumbled to open it with hands that had suddenly begun to shake.

*Mr. Sterling,

I must offer my sincerest apologies for this afternoon's abrupt departure. Due to unforeseen personal circumstances, I found myself unable to remain at our designated meeting place.

I fear that my current emotional state would not be conducive to the serious business of dissolving our union. The matter of our divorce deserves to be handled with clear heads and rational discourse, neither of which I can guarantee at this moment.

Please forgive this second instance of my failing to honor our appointment. I remain fully committed to ending our marriage arrangement and will contact you soon with a new proposal for our meeting.

I hope you will find it in your heart to be patient with what must seem like the erratic behavior of a woman you have never met.

With regards and apologies,

Your Temporarily Inconvenienced Wife*

The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering onto the table as the full weight of the truth crashed over me like a tsunami.

Aveline was my wife.

My brilliant, fierce, complicated, beautiful teacher was the mystery woman I'd been legally married to for six years.

The woman who'd married a dying stranger she'd never met was the same woman who'd been taking care of my son, who'd challenged my parenting methods, who'd made me feel more alive than I had since my illness.

The woman I'd been falling for—despite my best efforts to maintain professional distance—was already mine.

Had been mine all along.

I sank into the chair she'd vacated, my legs suddenly unable to support my weight.

*Six years ago.* I remembered now. Waking up in that hospital bed, barely alive, and being told I had a wife. A wife I'd never met, thrust upon me by family arrangements. I'd been so angry, so convinced she was just another gold digger trying to cash in on my impending death.

I'd refused to see her. Told my grandfather she wasn't worthy of my time, that I wouldn't waste my dying breath on some opportunistic stranger.

And today, she'd come here to divorce me. She'd dressed beautifully, brought symbolic flowers, prepared to finally end the arrangement I'd rejected before it ever began.

Instead, she'd seen me with Sera and fled again.

I thought about the look on her face when she'd spotted the young woman embracing me, the hurt and anger in her eyes as she'd rushed for the exit.

*Christ. What a disaster.*

But as the initial shock began to wear off, I found myself smiling. Not the polite, controlled expression I usually wore, but something genuine and probably slightly unhinged.

Aveline was my wife.

I picked up my phone and began typing a response to her email.

*Divorce? Absolutely not. Not anymore.*