The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 126

Aveline

The room went completely still. Even Vivian stopped pretending to eat her salad.

Grandma Eleanor set down her fork slowly, her expression deeply troubled. "Richard, this all sounds very convenient. Why are these problems surfacing now, right after yesterday's... incident?"

Monica immediately jumped in, her voice taking on a desperate edge. "Mom, you saw what we ate tonight! You see what we're living with while Aveline drives around in half a million dollars worth of cars! We're barely surviving here!"

The words hit their mark. Grandma Eleanor's eyes flickered toward the dining room where the evidence of our split dinner still sat on the table, then back to my face, clearly troubled by the stark contrast.

"I... I don't know, Richard," she said hesitantly, her voice smaller than I'd heard it in years. "Those shares... they're all I have left of your father. The company was our baby."

Richard and Monica exchanged a quick, triumphant glance. They could sense her weakening resolve.

"I understand, Mom," Richard said, his voice taking on a gentler, more persuasive tone. "But Dad would want you to save the company, wouldn't he? He'd want his legacy to continue."

"The whole family would suffer if we lose everything," Vivian added quietly, one hand moving to her stomach with calculated effect. "Especially the baby. I can't bear the thought of bringing a child into a world where we've lost everything our family built."

I watched Grandma Eleanor's face crumble slightly at the mention of the unborn great-grandchild. Her resolve was clearly wavering.

"Maybe... maybe if it's just temporary..." she whispered, almost to herself.

Richard leaned forward eagerly, sensing victory. "Exactly, Mom. Just until we get through this rough patch. Then everything goes back to normal."

Monica was practically vibrating with suppressed excitement. Vivian allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.

I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and set it aside with deliberate calm.

"Grandma," I said gently, my voice cutting through their manufactured urgency like a warm knife through butter. "Before you make any decisions, don't you think we should verify that the situation is actually as dire as they're claiming?"

All eyes turned to me. The triumphant expressions on Richard, Monica, and Vivian's faces faltered slightly.

"I mean," I continued with reasonable concern, "transferring stock shares is a big step. Surely it would be wise to have the company's financial records independently reviewed first?"

Grandma Eleanor looked up at me with obvious relief. "You think we should get a second opinion?"

"I think," I said, standing up and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "that tomorrow morning, you and I should pay a visit to the company's accounting department. Just to get a clear picture of exactly where things stand financially."

Richard's face flushed red. "That's completely unnecessary—"

"Is it?" I asked mildly. "If the situation is truly as desperate as you claim, then the records will show it. And if it's not..." I shrugged. "Well, then we'll all sleep better knowing the truth."

The explosion was immediate.

"How dare you question our integrity!" Monica shot to her feet, her chair scraping against the floor. "After everything this family has done for you!"

I smiled serenely at her outrage. "I'm not questioning anyone's integrity. I'm simply suggesting due diligence. Surely you'd want the same thing if you were in Grandma Eleanor's position?"

Grandma Eleanor nodded firmly. "Aveline's absolutely right. If I'm going to risk the company shares, I need to understand exactly what I'm risking them for."

Richard and Monica deflated slightly, clearly realizing their emotional manipulation wasn't working as well as they'd hoped.

But Vivian—Vivian was just getting started.

"You know what this is really about?" she said, struggling to her feet with exaggerated difficulty. "This isn't about protecting Grandma Eleanor or being responsible. This is about jealousy. Pure, pathetic jealousy."

Her voice Eleanor with each word, all pretense of sweet victimhood evaporating.

"I'm the one who's pregnant. I'm the one who's going to give this family its first grandchild—a real heir, a legitimate bloodline. But you can't stand that, can you? You can't stand that I'm the actual family here, the real daughter, while you're just some charity case they took in. For once in your life, you're not the center of everyone's attention!"

She moved closer, her eyes bright with malicious triumph.

"You have everything handed to you—men throwing expensive cars at your feet, a fancy career you didn't have to sacrifice anything for, complete freedom to do whatever you want. But God forbid the pregnant woman gets a little consideration! God forbid someone else gets to be special for once!"

The room fell silent. Richard and Monica looked uncomfortable, as if Vivian had gone further than they'd planned.

I looked at her for a long moment, then started to laugh. Not bitterly, not sarcastically, but with genuine amusement.

"Oh, Vivian," I said, shaking my head. "You really don't understand anything, do you?"

The condescending tone in my voice made her eyes flash with rage.

"Excuse me?"

I stood up slowly, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifted. The gentle, reasonable woman who'd been suggesting financial reviews was gone, replaced by something much more dangerous.

"You think this is about jealousy?" I asked, my voice dropping to something soft and deadly. "You think I'm envious of your pregnancy?"

I took a step toward her, and she instinctively backed up.

"Let me explain something to you, Vivian. I have choices you'll never have because I built my value on something more substantial than my reproductive system. I never confused being needed with being loved. And I never, ever made the mistake of thinking a pregnancy was a lottery ticket."

Her hand flew protectively to her stomach.

"That child you're carrying—if it even exists, and I'm increasingly skeptical about that—is going to inherit a legacy of manipulation, entitlement, and emotional blackmail. Is that really the family fortune you want to pass down?"

"How dare you—" Vivian started, but I cut her off.

"How dare I what? Tell the truth? Point out that you're using an unborn child as a weapon in your pathetic money grab?" My voice was still quiet, but it carried the kind of authority that made everyone in the room freeze. "You want to talk about being special, Vivian? You're special, all right. You're the only person I know who's managed to be simultaneously parasitic and pregnant."

Vivian's face went white, then red, then white again.

"You... you can't talk to me like that! I'm family! I'm carrying the next generation!"

"You're a con artist with a convincing medical prop," I replied calmly. "And if you think that gives you the right to steal from the woman who's shown you nothing but kindness, then you're not just greedy—you're stupid."

The room fell dead silent.

Grandma Eleanor was watching with obvious satisfaction, as if she'd been waiting years to see someone put Vivian in her place.

Richard was the first to break. "Look," he said, his voice losing all its bluster, "maybe we can work something out. Find other investors, or—"

"You do that," I said pleasantly, returning to my seat. "You find other investors to bail out your failing company. But Grandma Eleanor's assets remain exactly where they are."

I picked up my spoon and returned to my bisque as if nothing had happened.

"This soup really is excellent, Grandma. You'll have to give me the recipe."