The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 117

Orion

I arrived at Brew St thirty minutes early, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged animal. In my rushed escape from the boardroom, I'd had to make an emergency stop at a street vendor to buy the most generic outfit I could find—a plain gray hoodie, baseball cap, and oversized sunglasses that made me look like every other paranoid celebrity trying to avoid paparazzi.

The café was perfect for covert observation, with its abundance of oversized potted plants strategically placed throughout the space. I positioned myself at a small table near a massive fiddle-leaf fig, close enough to Sebastian's designated spot to hear clearly but hopefully inconspicuous enough to blend in with the other customers.

Sebastian was already seated at the designated table, looking every inch the sophisticated gentleman in his perfectly tailored charcoal suit and gold-rimmed glasses. A pristine bouquet of white roses sat prominently on the table beside him—the agreed-upon identification signal. He sat with practiced ease, occasionally checking his vintage watch and sipping water with the kind of effortless elegance that probably made waitresses swoon.

I pulled out my phone and fired off a quick text: *Remember your role. Guilt-ridden but dignified. Get her sympathy for one month delay. That's it.*

Sebastian glanced at his phone discretely and gave an almost imperceptible nod, then turned his full attention back to the entrance.

At exactly 2 PM, the café door opened, and my breath caught in my throat.

Aveline walked in like she owned the place, her posture radiating controlled fury and determination. She'd chosen a simple but elegant black dress that hugged her curves perfectly, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek chignon that highlighted the sharp line of her jaw.

Even angry, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

Sebastian rose immediately as she approached, and I had to grudgingly admit his technique was flawless. As she reached the table, he looked at her with an expression that somehow managed to blend amazement, sadness, and regret into one devastatingly effective look.

"Mrs. Sterling," he said, his voice carrying perfect emotional weight as he rose from his seat. "My God, you're even more stunning than I could have possibly imagined. Six years of wondering, and the reality surpasses every dream."

*That's definitely not in the script,* I thought, but I had to admit Sebastian was selling it completely.

Aveline's response was sharp and immediate: "Please, call me Aveline. And I didn't come here to play out some romantic fantasy with you. I'm here to discuss our divorce, nothing more."

Sebastian's expression shifted to something more businesslike, though he maintained that wounded sincerity. "Of course, Aveline. Though I should mention that the timeline for our divorce may need to be adjusted. I was hoping we could finalize everything next month instead."

"Next month?" Her voice rose with obvious irritation. "Why the hell would we wait another month?"

Sebastian paused, as if weighing his words carefully. "It's... complicated. There are circumstances you don't fully understand about how this arrangement came to be. I owe you a proper explanation, and a genuine apology for what my family put you through. The truth is, I wasn't given much choice in the matter either. My grandfather had very specific ideas about family obligations and legacy preservation."

"How convenient," Aveline said coldly. "Six years later, you've suddenly grown a conscience?"

"Six years later, I finally have the power to act on it." Sebastian leaned forward slightly, his voice growing more intimate. "My grandfather passed recently, and with him went the legal constraints that prevented me from reaching out to you directly."

I typed furiously: *Where is this backstory coming from?*

Sebastian's reply was maddening in its brevity: *Trust the process.*

"You could have fought harder," Aveline challenged. "You could have refused."

"You're right. I was weak. I told myself I was protecting family business, protecting jobs, but the truth is..." Sebastian's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, "I was protecting myself from having to face what I'd done to an innocent girl."

I watched Aveline's posture soften slightly, her arms uncrossing as Sebastian's performance began to work its magic.

"What's changed now?" she asked, her tone less hostile than before.

"Everything." Sebastian reached for his water glass, and as he did, his fingers brushed against Aveline's hand on the table—the lightest, most "accidental" contact imaginable. He immediately pulled back as if burned.

"Forgive me," he said, his expression pained. "I didn't mean to—"

That was it. I gripped my coffee cup so tightly I thought it might shatter, my jaw clenching as I watched that calculated "accidental" contact.

My phone was already in my hands: *Touch her again and I'll end your career.*

Sebastian's response was a single word: *Noted.*

But the damage was done. That brief, seemingly innocent contact had shifted something in Aveline's demeanor. She was leaning forward now, genuinely curious rather than simply defensive.

"You still haven't answered my question," she said. "Why ask for time? Why not just sign the papers now?"

This was the crucial moment. I held my breath, watching Sebastian's face transform into an expression of such raw vulnerability that I wanted to applaud and strangle him simultaneously.

"Because," he said, his voice breaking slightly, "one month from today will be the anniversary of my mother's death. She was the only person who ever questioned what my grandfather was doing to you."

*His mother?* I stared at my phone screen in disbelief. *What fucking mother?*

Sebastian continued without missing a beat: "Before she died, she made me promise that if I ever had the chance to make amends for our family's sins, I would take it. She said, 'That poor girl deserves better than what we've given her. Promise me you'll make it right.'"

I watched Aveline's entire body language change. Her shoulders relaxed, her expression grew soft with sympathy, and when she spoke, her voice was gentle.

"She really said that?"

"Her exact words." Sebastian's eyes actually glistened with moisture—a detail that made me question whether he was acting or genuinely moved by his own fictional backstory. "I want to use this month not as your husband, but as a man seeking forgiveness. Not for marriage, but for redemption."

The silence stretched between them, and I found myself holding my breath.

Finally, Aveline nodded slowly. "One month," she said. "But I want to be clear—this changes nothing between us. This is about giving you the closure you seem to need, nothing more."

"Of course," Sebastian agreed immediately. "I would never presume otherwise."

"And after one month, you sign the papers. No delays, no excuses, no more emotional manipulation."

"Emotional manipulation?" Sebastian looked genuinely hurt. "Ms. Reeves, everything I've told you is the absolute truth."

"Maybe it is," Aveline said, standing from her chair. "But I've learned to be skeptical of men who claim noble motivations for selfish actions."

Sebastian rose as well, moving to pull out her chair with perfect gentlemanly grace. "You have every right to doubt me. I hope this month will prove my sincerity."

"We'll see," Aveline said. As she walked toward the exit, she paused and looked back. "Your mother sounds like she was a good woman."

"She was the best of us," Sebastian replied softly.

After Aveline left, Sebastian remained standing for a moment before turning in my direction with a satisfied smile.

"Excellent work, Mr. Blackwell. The performance is over."

I stood from my table, my hoodie wrinkled and my disguise probably fooling no one at this point.

"One month," Sebastian confirmed before I could ask. "Mission accomplished."

"The dying mother?" I demanded. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"She needed something emotionally compelling," Sebastian replied, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. "Family duty wasn't enough. Maternal guilt and deathbed promises are far more powerful motivators."

I snapped. "Do you have any idea that I lost my own mother when I was young?"

"II... I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Blackwell. I had no idea about your personal circumstances. That was completely thoughtless of me."

I pulled out my phone to transfer his payment, my hands shaking with a mixture of relief and fury. "Our business is concluded. Stay away from her."