The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 144

Orion

The entire drive back to the city, I'd been in a strange fog, my mind replaying every moment of what had happened by the creek. Ryan had chattered excitedly about the horses and the beautiful scenery, but I'd barely heard him, too caught up in trying to process Aveline's boldness.

*What the hell had I gotten myself into?*

The woman was absolutely wild. The way she'd turned my own proposition back on me, the way she'd touched me so brazenly, the way she'd looked me in the eye and essentially dared me to keep up with her—it was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

And the most insane part? She was my wife. My actual, legally married wife who had no idea she was married to me.

The irony was so twisted it was almost poetic. Here I was, agreeing to be fuck buddies with the woman I'd been bound to for six years, and she thought we were strangers embarking on some casual arrangement.

Just thinking about it made my body respond in ways that were highly inconvenient while driving with my five-year-old son in the backseat.

After getting Ryan settled for the night—complete with his usual bedtime story about brave knights and magical kingdoms—I retreated to my study with a bottle of Macallan 25 and tried to focus on work. The company emails were piling up, quarterly reports needed reviewing, and there were three merger proposals sitting on my desk demanding immediate attention.

But every time I tried to concentrate on profit margins or market analysis, my mind wandered back to the feel of her hands on me, the heat in her eyes when she'd whispered that challenge in my ear.

*Don't you dare fall in love with me.*

Too late for that warning, sweetheart.

I was pouring my second glass of whisky when my study door swung open without so much as a knock.

"Well, well," came my grandfather's amused voice, "a man drinking alone while working late into the evening. In my experience, there's only one situation that creates this particular combination."

I looked up to see Bryce standing in the doorway, impeccably dressed as always despite the late hour, his silver hair perfectly styled and his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"How did you get in here?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. He had keys to every Blackwell property and the audacity to use them whenever he pleased.

"Don't interrupt your grandfather, boy. It's terribly rude," he said, waving a dismissive hand as he surveyed my desk. "As I was saying, when a man who typically finishes work by six finds himself staring at the same quarterly report for two hours while nursing expensive whisky... that's not dedication to business. That's a man whose mind is elsewhere. And judging by that particular look of frustrated longing you're wearing, I'd say it's in love."

I nearly choked on my whisky. "Grandfather, please. Not tonight."

The old man was already making himself comfortable in the leather chair across from my desk, clearly settling in for a long conversation I didn't want to have.

But there was something about his observation that hit uncomfortably close to home. The excitement, the constant thoughts about her, the way my body reacted just thinking about her—it did feel disturbingly like teenage infatuation, only amplified by the forbidden nature of the situation.

*I'm planning to have an affair with my own wife. How's that for twisted?*

"Don't be ridiculous, Grandfather," I said with a laugh that sounded forced even to my own ears.

Bryce studied me with those sharp eyes that missed nothing. "Pour me a drink, would you? This conversation requires proper lubrication."

Against my better judgment, I poured him a generous measure and slid it across the desk. He accepted it with a satisfied nod and took a slow, appreciative sip.

"Now then," he said, settling back in his chair, "normally when I disturb you at this hour, you kick me out immediately. And when I ask for alcohol, you lecture me about how whisky isn't good for these old bones." His eyes glittered with amusement. "Tonight, however, you're in remarkably good spirits."

"What's your point?" I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I knew where this was going.

"My point, dear boy, is that your improved mood suggests you got laid last night. Am I right?"

I promptly spat out my mouthful of whisky, coughing as the liquid burned my throat.

Bryce clapped his hands together in delight. "Ha! I knew it! Finally, some progress! Now tell your old grandfather—was it the mysterious wife you've never met, or was it young Ryan's delightful teacher?"

I shot to my feet, my face burning with embarrassment and irritation. "Grandfather, I'm warning you—don't you dare say anything like that in front of Ryan. I'll have you banned from this house."

"Relax, relax!" Bryce laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just teasing. But honestly, Orion, it's about time you started living like a man instead of a monk."

I sat back down heavily, running a hand through my hair. "Why are you really here? It's past eleven."

"Two reasons," Bryce said, his expression growing more serious. "First, to check on your love life, which appears to be progressing nicely. Second, to brief you on some concerning developments with Sera and her father."

The mention of Sera immediately killed whatever good mood I'd been in. "She's been harassing Aveline at her school, causing problems for her. I don't care if her father is one of our major shareholders—I won't tolerate it."

"I'm not here to listen to you complain," Bryce said briskly. "I'm here to warn you that her father and your uncle Devan are getting cozy. Very cozy."

I leaned back in my chair, my jaw tightening. "Let them. If they want to make a move against me, I'll make sure they regret it."

"That's exactly the attitude that's going to get you in trouble," Bryce said, reaching into his jacket and producing an elegant cream-colored invitation. "Sera has personally invited you to a charity auction next week. Her father will be there, along with several other major shareholders."

I stared at the invitation like it might bite me. "Absolutely not."

"Hear me out," Bryce continued, his tone becoming more persuasive. "I believe this is Sera testing the waters. If you attend and behave... appropriately, they might align with us instead of with Devan. If you don't show, or if you make it clear you're not interested in their little games, they'll throw their support behind your uncle."

*Behave appropriately.* I knew exactly what that meant. They wanted me to play the role of Sera's devoted suitor, to let her father believe there was a potential merger between our families along with our businesses.

"The company's stability should be your first priority," Bryce said quietly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I know you don't like political games, but sometimes we have to play them to protect what's ours."

I looked down at the invitation, torn between my instincts to tell them all to go to hell and my responsibility to the company—and to Ryan's future.

Finally, I picked up the invitation with a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'll go. But I'm only observing, Grandfather. I'm not promising anything beyond that."

Bryce smiled with satisfaction. "That's all I ask, my boy. Just keep your options open."