The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 147

Vivian

By the time Grandma Eleanor spotted us approaching, I was already doubling over, clutching my stomach with both hands and letting out carefully practiced whimpers of pain.

"Oh God, it hurts," I gasped, allowing Monica to catch me as I swayed dramatically.

"Mom!" Richard called out with perfectly feigned panic. "Please, you have to help your granddaughter!"

Grandma Eleanor's walking stick nearly slipped from her grasp as she took in the scene. The attendant moved to steady her, but she waved him away with a sharp gesture, her full attention focused on us.

"What's wrong? What happened?" she demanded, her voice tight with barely controlled worry. "Your pregnancy is barely over a month along! Why aren't you at the hospital instead of here?"

I opened my mouth as if to speak, then let out a small sob, pressing my hand harder against my abdomen. The performance had to be perfect—vulnerable but not overly dramatic.

"She's in too much pain to talk," Monica said, her voice breaking with maternal distress as she held me close. "Oh, Mother, thank goodness we found you! She's been suffering for days, but there was no one to comfort her while you were away." She paused meaningfully. "You were with Aveline on that trip, weren't you?"

I watched Grandma Eleanor's face carefully and saw exactly what I'd been hoping for—a flash of guilt, the self-recrimination of someone who felt they'd abandoned family in a time of need.

"We tried to get help," Monica continued, her voice gaining momentum. "We went to the emergency room at three in the morning, but they refused to admit her! They said her condition was related to chronic emotional instability, possibly caused by neglect and lack of proper care. They insisted she needed specialized treatment at St. Catherine's Private Care Facility, but..." She trailed off dramatically.

Grandma Eleanor gripped her walking stick so tightly her knuckles went white. "But what? Speak up!"

She turned her sharp gaze on Richard. "Don't tell me you can't afford to take care of your own daughter!"

Richard dropped his head, taking a long, slow drag from his cigarette before responding. The picture of a defeated man. "We thought about asking Aveline for help, but you know how she is now. She won't even let us through her front gate. We're too proud to grovel to her." He looked up with eyes full of paternal anguish. "But you... you're Vivian's real grandmother. You're the only one who can save her now."

Grandma Eleanor's brow furrowed deeply as she processed this information. The silence stretched for several long moments, and I could practically see her mind working, weighing emotion against suspicion.

Finally, she spoke, her voice carrying a note of sharp intelligence that made my pulse spike. "Tell me something—how exactly did you know I'd be here at this grocery store today?"

*Damn it. I knew she was too smart to fool completely.*

Time for the nuclear option.

I'd hidden a small packet of stage blood—the kind used in theater productions—in my waistband before we'd left the house. With a quick, practiced motion, I punctured it against the hidden safety pin I'd positioned there.

Warm, red liquid immediately began seeping through my clothes.

"Oh God!" I screamed, letting my legs give out completely. "Something's wrong! The baby!"

Richard caught me just as I collapsed, his face going genuinely pale as he saw the spreading stain. Even though he knew this was all an act, seeing his daughter covered in what looked like blood triggered his protective instincts.

"Vivian! Vivian!" Monica shrieked, dropping to her knees beside us. The terror in her voice was completely authentic—she wasn't as good an actress as I was.

Grandma Eleanor's composure finally shattered completely. "Oh my God! Quick, quick! Get her to the facility immediately!"

"I want to," Richard said, his voice catching with perfectly timed desperation, "but I need to use your stock portfolio as collateral for an emergency loan. We can't afford the private facility without it!"

"Stop talking and just take her!" Grandma Eleanor snapped, her hands shaking as she fumbled for her phone. "Whatever you need, however much it costs—I'll figure it out! Just save my granddaughter!"

As Richard lifted me into his arms, I felt a surge of triumph mixed with something unexpected—genuine warmth.

*Finally, Grandma. Finally, you're putting me first.*

For the first time in years, I was the granddaughter who mattered most.