The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 14

Aveline

I stood in front of the antique mirror in Grandmother Eleanor's guest room, making final adjustments to my appearance. The reflection looking back at me was professional yet approachable—honey blonde hair swept into a neat ponytail, just enough makeup to look polished without appearing overdone. My blue eyes looked bright and alert, and I'd chosen a soft cream cashmere sweater paired with a knee-length navy skirt that struck the perfect balance between competent psychologist and approachable mentor.

The look was deliberately wholesome, designed to put both children and parents at ease. Nothing flashy, nothing that screamed for attention—just clean, classic lines that suggested reliability and warmth.

I was checking my watch when Vivian's voice cut through the morning quiet like nails on a chalkboard.

"Well, well, look who's all dressed up in her little innocent act." She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her platinum blonde hair styled in aggressive waves and her lips painted that signature blood red. "Playing the sweet, pure psychologist today, are we?"

I didn't bother looking up from gathering my papers. "Good morning to you too, Vivian."

"You know what I find funny?" she continued, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Here you are, putting on this whole virginal act when everyone knows you're a married woman. God only knows what you've been up to during those years abroad. For all we know, you could have gotten divorced and remarried three times. Maybe even popped out a few kids along the way."

Something snapped inside me. I turned slowly, my voice deadly quiet. "What did you just say?"

"Oh, come on," Vivian laughed, emboldened by what she thought was my restraint. "Did you really think we'd believe the innocent little teacher routine? A woman your age, living abroad for years, legally married but mysteriously single? Please. You've probably been—"

The slap echoed through the room like a gunshot. Vivian's head snapped to the side, and she stumbled backwards, her designer heels catching on the Persian rug. She went down hard, landing on her perfectly manicured ass with a satisfying thump.

"You bitch!" she shrieked, scrambling to get back to her feet, her face twisted with rage. "How dare you—"

"Vivian, what's all this commotion?" Monica swept into the room with that practiced smile that never reached her eyes. But when she saw her precious daughter on the floor, her expression shifted to something calculating rather than concerned.

"She hit me!" Vivian wailed, pointing an accusatory finger at me while trying to preserve what was left of her dignity.

"Now, now," Monica said smoothly, helping Vivian to her feet with exaggerated care. "I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding." She turned to me with a smile that was pure poison. "After all, Aveline is working at that exclusive academy now. With all those wealthy families' children."

Something in her tone made my skin crawl, but I kept my expression neutral.

"In fact," Monica continued, her eyes glittering with malice, "I heard that Vivian's longtime crush has a child at Arlington Academy. Isn't that right, darling?"

Vivian's demeanor changed instantly, her fury melting into something predatory and eager. "Oh my God, you're right!" She turned to me with wide, hopeful eyes, all traces of our fight forgotten. "Aveline, you have to help me!"

I stared at her in disbelief. "Help you with what?"

"My crush!" she said breathlessly, clasping her hands together like a teenager. "He's New York's most eligible bachelor—Orion Blackwell. He's gorgeous, incredibly wealthy, and he's a single father, which makes him even more attractive. His son must go to Arlington Academy!"

Hearing that name, I felt oddly unsurprised. Of course Vivian's crush would be Manhattan's wealthiest bachelor—it would have been shocking if someone with her gold-digging tendencies had set her sights any lower. I could only imagine the look on her face if I told her that the child I was teaching just happened to be her precious "crush's" son.

She grabbed my arm with desperate enthusiasm. "If you see him, you have to get his contact information for me! Or better yet, put in a good word! Tell him about me!"

I looked between Monica and Vivian, both of them watching me with expectant faces, and had to bite back a laugh. The whole situation was so absurd I couldn't quite process it.

"Oh yes," I said with mock seriousness, "because my job involves constant interaction with billionaire parents. I'm practically swimming in wealthy men every day."

I let my gaze travel slowly up and down Vivian's outfit—the aggressive red lipstick, the skin-tight dress with cutouts in inappropriate places, the jewelry that screamed "look at me" from across the room.

"The only problem is," I continued conversationally, "men like that tend to prefer... subtlety. They're not really attracted to women who look like they're auditioning for a reality show. They prefer class over flash, sophistication over desperation."

Vivian's face flushed red, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for a response. But I was already heading for the door, my bag slung over my shoulder.

"But I'll keep an eye out," I called over my shoulder with false cheerfulness. "You never know!"

The taxi ride to the Blackwell estate gave me time to decompress from the morning's drama, but as we wound through the private drive, I felt my professional focus returning. Whatever family dysfunction I'd left behind at the townhouse, Ryan deserved my full attention.

Mitchell was waiting for me at the main entrance, his face lighting up with genuine pleasure when he saw me approach.

"Dr. Reeves," he said warmly, "Master Ryan spotted your taxi from his window upstairs. I believe he's quite eager to see you."

"Please, just call me Aveline," I said with a smile. "Dr. Reeves feels too formal for—"

"Miss Aveline it is, then," Mitchell replied with obvious pleasure, but before he could say more, the sound of running feet echoed from inside the house, and suddenly Ryan burst through the front doors, his face radiant with joy.

"Miss Aveline! You finally came back!"

He threw himself into my arms with the kind of uninhibited affection that made my chest tight with emotion. For a moment, I just held him, breathing in that sweet child scent and marveling at how right this felt. There was something about this little boy that called to every maternal instinct I had, something that made me want to protect and cherish him.

"Yesterday morning, Daddy and I waited for you all morning long!" he said, pulling back to look at me with those bright eyes.

"Of course I came back, I promised, didn't I?" I said, then paused. "Your daddy?"

Ryan nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! And he's coming back later to meet you!"