The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 120

Orion

I woke up that morning with an unusual weight on my chest. The memory of yesterday's successful deception should have brought relief, but instead, all I could think about was Aveline—the way she'd looked so vulnerable walking into that café, the quiet dignity with which she'd accepted Sebastian's fabricated apology.

She had believed every word. Completely, utterly believed that her mysterious husband was some grieving, noble figure seeking redemption. The guilt was eating at me alive. I'd already lied to her so many times.

The actor had given her a month of false hope, painted me as some grieving, noble figure seeking redemption. The least I could do was live up to that fiction.

"Mitchell," I called as I headed downstairs, already reaching for my phone. "Clear my morning. We're going to Manhattan Luxury Motors."

Mitchell appeared with his usual punctuality, carrying my coffee and today's financial reports. "Sir, if I may point out, your garage is already at capacity. The Lamborghini, the Aston Martin, the McLaren—"

"They're not for me," I said, accepting the coffee with a smile that felt lighter than it had in weeks.

Mitchell's eyebrows rose with understanding. "Ah. For Dr. Reeves, I presume? You're feeling guilty about the deception."

"I'm buying insurance," I corrected, though my tone was amused rather than defensive. "I've already mentally prepared for the moment she discovers the truth about yesterday's meeting. I'm envisioning her fury, the very real possibility of physical violence..."

"And you believe luxury vehicles will soften the blow?"

"I believe they'll demonstrate that my intentions, while poorly executed, were genuine." I paused at the door. "Think of it as a very expensive apology gift."

Mitchell's expression was diplomatically neutral. "I do hope your insurance policy proves... comprehensive enough for the situation."

The drive to the dealership gave me time to plan. Aveline's mint green Mini Cooper was charming—adorable, even—but completely inadequate for Manhattan traffic. She needed something substantial, safe, but still suited to her personality.

I'd already narrowed it down to three options: a pearl white Bentley Continental GT for elegance and daily use, a midnight blue Porsche 911 for those moments when she wanted to feel powerful, and a fully loaded Range Rover for absolute safety in any weather condition. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it properly.

Manhattan Luxury Motors was exactly the kind of establishment that required appointments and background checks just to browse. The kind of place where million-dollar transactions were handled with champagne and leather-bound contracts.

I was reviewing the final specifications when a bright, familiar voice cut through the showroom's quiet sophistication.

"Orion! What a wonderful surprise!"

I turned to see Sera Ashford practically bouncing toward me, her father Charles following at a more measured pace. She was dressed in what I could only describe as "princess goes car shopping"—a powder blue dress that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary, paired with heels that clicked against the marble floor like a countdown timer.

"Sera," I acknowledged politely, though I felt my jaw tighten as she immediately latched onto my arm with presumptuous familiarity.

"I can't believe you're here too! Daddy's finally letting me pick out my graduation present." She beamed up at me with those wide, innocent eyes that sparkled with genuine excitement. "What about you? Please tell me you're not trading in that gorgeous Lamborghini!"

Her gaze drifted to the three purchase agreements spread across the sales manager's desk, and her expression shifted to delighted surprise.

"Oh my goodness, Orion! Three cars?" She clapped her hands together like a child on Christmas morning. "Is this some kind of amazing surprise for me? I mean, it's incredibly generous—maybe a little excessive—but if you absolutely insist, I suppose I could accept the white Bentley! It would match my new handbag perfectly!"

The casual entitlement in her voice, the way she assumed my purchases were somehow connected to her, sent a spike of irritation through my chest. I carefully but firmly removed her hands from my arm.

"Sera," I said, my voice carrying a chill that made her bright smile falter, "these cars are not for you. They're for someone who actually matters to me."

The showroom went very quiet. Sera's face fell like a deflated balloon, her lower lip trembling slightly.

"Oh," she said in a small voice, her cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. "Not... not for me?" She looked down at her hands, then back up at me with wounded eyes. "Okay then... I guess they're for someone really important to you."

She paused, and I could see the wheels turning in her head before her expression shifted to something like understanding mixed with hurt.

"I know who you're buying them for," she said quietly. "It's that teacher, isn't it? Miss Aveline?"

I felt an unexpected pang of guilt at the genuine sadness in her voice, but I pushed it aside. This conversation was long overdue.

"Who they're for isn't the point," I said firmly. "What matters is that I need to make something clear between us. We need boundaries, Sera."

Her eyes widened with that trademark innocent expression, and she tilted her head like a confused puppy.

"Boundaries? But Orion, I was just joking around! You don't have to be so serious about everything." She gave a nervous little laugh. "I didn't really think you were buying me three cars. That would be crazy, right?"

I shook my head, feeling my resolve harden despite the part of me that wanted to soften at her apparent innocence. I couldn't let this continue—not when it might interfere with my future with Aveline.

"Sera, listen to me carefully," I said, my voice taking on a tone that made her straighten up with attention. "Every time I've taken you out, every moment I've spent in your company—it was all because of my grandfather's expectations. I don't actually enjoy babysitting a spoiled child."

The words hit her like a physical blow. Her face crumpled, and for a moment she looked younger than her twenty-two years.

"I'm not a child!" she snapped, her sweet demeanor cracking to reveal genuine anger underneath. "You're the one acting like a child! Come on, Daddy, let's go!"

She grabbed her father's arm and started pulling him toward the exit, but Charles Ashford wasn't about to leave quietly. He stepped forward, his face dark with fury and wounded pride.

"Do you have any idea what you've just done, Blackwell?" His voice was low and dangerous. "You've insulted my daughter in front of witnesses. Made her look like a fool. Do you understand the consequences of crossing me?"

I met his glare with cool indifference. "I understand perfectly."

"I control the second-largest voting block on your board of directors," Charles continued, his voice rising. "I could make your life very difficult if I chose to."

"In matters of principle," I replied, my voice cutting through his threats like ice, "I don't negotiate. Ever."

Charles's smile was sharp and predatory. "Is that so? Well, I think your uncle Devan and I are going to have some very interesting conversations in the coming weeks. Very interesting indeed."

The threat hung in the air like a challenge, but I didn't flinch.

"Looking forward to it," I said calmly, turning back to the sales manager as if dismissing them entirely.

As the Ashfords stormed out—Sera still muttering angrily about being called a child while her father plotted revenge—I signed the final documents transferring three luxury vehicles to Aveline's name.

The sales manager cleared his throat diplomatically. "Shall I arrange delivery, Mr. Blackwell?"

"Immediately," I said, my hand steady as I signed my name.