The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 148

Aveline

After a long day at school dealing with finger paint disasters and the ongoing drama of five-year-old politics, Luna's text about impromptu shopping was exactly what I needed. I found her waiting outside Bergdorf's, practically glowing in the late afternoon sunlight.

"My God, Luna," I said, giving her a quick hug, "your skin looks absolutely incredible! What have you been using?"

She laughed, linking her arm through mine as we headed toward the cosmetics department. "Good genes and lots of sleep, I guess."

But as we wandered through the beauty section, with Luna testing lipstick shades on the back of her hand, I couldn't help but notice the discrepancy between her radiant appearance and her outfit. Her skin was dewy and perfect—the kind that suggested expensive facials and premium skincare—but she was wearing a perfectly nice but decidedly mid-range sweater and jeans.

"Luna," I said, picking up a bottle of serum that cost more than most people's weekly grocery budget, "I have to ask—why is Laurent being so stingy? Doesn't he know a bunch of designers? Why hasn't he been spoiling you with gorgeous clothes?"

Luna nearly dropped the lipstick she was testing. "Aveline! Don't say that so loud!" She glanced around nervously before lowering her voice. "He's not stingy at all. Actually, my closet is practically bursting. Every time he sees me, he shows up with bags full of designer clothes and accessories."

She moved to the perfume counter, where a sales associate immediately appeared to offer samples. "It's just... I don't know, it doesn't feel like 'me' yet. And besides," she added, accepting a spritz of something that probably cost a fortune, "we haven't..."

I paused in my examination of an eye cream that promised to turn back time. "Don't tell me you two haven't slept together yet!"

"Aveline!" Luna hissed, her face turning pink as she practically sprayed perfume all over herself in her embarrassment.

I couldn't help but grin as I moved to the jewelry counter, pretending to admire some earrings while keeping my voice low. "Come on, be honest with me. Laurent's absolutely gorgeous, he's clearly crazy about you, and you're telling me you haven't jumped his bones yet?"

The sales associate politely pretended not to hear us while displaying different necklaces on black velvet.

"You're so crude!" Luna whispered, but she was laughing now. "When did you become so shameless about these things?"

"I've always been shameless," I replied, trying on a pair of diamond studs that were probably worth more than my car. "Six years of making it on your own in Europe will do that to you - you either learn to speak your mind or get steamrolled. But seriously, what's the holdup?"

Luna picked up a delicate bracelet, turning it over in her hands with obvious nervousness. "I meant we haven't gotten married yet. Marriage is... it's sacred, you know? I want to do things properly."

I nearly choked on my own surprise, setting down the earrings with perhaps more force than necessary. "Luna, you sweet, innocent angel! You're still that pure-hearted girl from high school, aren't you? You won't spend his money until there's a ring on your finger?"

"It's not that I won't spend his money," she protested, moving toward the handbag section where she began examining a beautiful leather purse with the kind of reverence usually reserved for religious artifacts. "It's just... I don't feel right being so... comfortable with it until we're husband and wife, you know? Marriage means something."

I stared at her in genuine amazement. "Laurent hit the absolute jackpot with you. You're like some rare, traditional goddess in designer jeans. I bet you're the type who would stick by him through thick and thin, sickness and health, the whole nine yards."

Luna immediately gave me a sharp push. "Don't jinx it! Why would you even say something like that?"

"I'm just saying," I laughed, steadying myself against a display of silk scarves, "you're basically a unicorn in the modern dating world. Though I have to admit, I still don't know if Laurent is actually marriage material."

We moved toward the clothing section, where Luna began browsing through a rack of cashmere sweaters with the careful attention of someone who appreciated quality but wasn't quite ready to indulge.

"What do you mean?" she asked, though her tone had gone slightly cool.

I picked up a ridiculously soft cardigan, checking the price tag and immediately putting it back down. "Well, he's had a lot of relationships over the years. And I mean a *lot*."

Luna's hand stilled on a particularly beautiful cream-colored sweater. "When you say 'a lot,' are we talking dozens? Because that's starting to sound..."

I felt heat creep up my neck as I realized I'd stepped into uncomfortable territory. "Um... well..."

The truth was, Laurent's romantic history was legendary among our circle. The man was French, devastatingly handsome, successful, and had never met a beautiful woman he couldn't charm. His romantic resume could probably fill a small novel.

"Oh my God," Luna said, reading my expression perfectly. "It really is dozens, isn't it?"

"He's just... very romantic by nature," I said weakly, following her as she moved away from the expensive sweaters toward a more reasonably priced section. "It's the French blood, I think. He can't help himself when it comes to matters of the heart."

Luna was quiet for a moment, running her fingers along a rack of simple cotton tops. "Well," she said finally, "I guess that just means he's had plenty of practice for when he settles down with the right person."

*God, she really is optimistic.*

"Speaking of relationships," Luna said, clearly eager to change the subject as we headed toward the shoe department, "what about that TV interview next week? The producer called me again about your availability."

I felt my stomach clench at the reminder. After everything that had happened with Orion over the past few days—the trip to his estate, our bizarre fuck buddy agreement, his strange text messages—the last thing I wanted was to go on television and discuss our "relationship."

"I'm still thinking about it," I said, sitting down to try on a pair of heels that were beautiful but completely impractical. "Things are... complicated right now."

"Complicated how?" Luna asked, settling beside me with her own selection of shoes.

Before I could figure out how to explain that I'd somehow agreed to be casual sex partners with the man everyone thought I was involved with, my phone rang.

Grandma Eleanor's name appeared on the screen, and I immediately felt a spike of worry. She rarely called when I was out unless something was wrong.

"Hi, Grandma," I answered, stepping away from Luna and the shoe displays.

"Aveline, sweetheart," came her voice, but something in her tone made my blood run cold. "I'm afraid I won't be coming home tonight. I'm at the hospital."

Every shopping bag, every trivial conversation, every concern about TV interviews vanished from my mind in an instant.

"What?" I said, my voice sharp with panic. "Grandma, are you sick? What happened? Which hospital?"