The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 156

Aveline

The moment I walked through the front door, I made a beeline for Grandma Eleanor's sitting room. I found her exactly where I expected—curled up in her favorite armchair with a cup of tea and one of her British mystery novels.

"There you are!" she said, setting down her book with obvious relief. "I was waiting for you all morning, sweetheart. You missed our usual breakfast together."

I felt heat creep up my neck. "Sorry, Grandma. I ended up having breakfast at Orion's place this morning."

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I'd made a mistake. Grandma Eleanor's eyes immediately lit up with the kind of mischievous gleam that meant trouble.

We settled at the small dining table where our housekeeper had laid out an elegant dinner—seared duck breast with cherry gastrique, truffle risotto, and what looked like a chocolate soufflé that probably cost more than most people's weekly grocery budget.

"Well, well, well," Grandma Eleanor said, leaning forward with barely contained glee. "Tell me everything, darling!"

"Tell you what?" I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly where this was going.

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "The staff mentioned you didn't come home last night. And look at you—completely different outfit from yesterday! That handsome Mr. Blackwell must be quite... captivating."

"Grandma!" I protested, nearly choking on my duck. "It's not like that! I was there handling... handling some business for you!"

"Business for me?" She raised an eyebrow with obvious skepticism. "What kind of business requires an overnight stay?"

*Think fast, Aveline.* I couldn't tell her the truth about Richard and Vivian's schemes—not yet, not without solid proof. The last thing I wanted was to worry her with suspicions about fake pregnancies and manipulated stock transfers.

"I was discussing whether Ryan could come visit you more often," I said quickly. "You know, to keep you company when you're feeling lonely. We talked about it for hours."

Grandma Eleanor stared at me for a long moment, clearly not buying a word of it. "Really? You spent the entire night at a man's house discussing babysitting arrangements?"

I grabbed my fork and took an enormous bite of the truffle risotto, hoping the incredible flavors would distract me from this interrogation. "Grandma, can we please not talk about this? This risotto is absolutely divine—did Chef Laurent make this himself?"

But Grandma Eleanor wasn't so easily deterred. She picked at her own meal thoughtfully before saying, "You know, I've been thinking that maybe Vivian could visit us here sometimes. Spend a little time in a more comfortable environment."

I nearly choked on my food. *Those manipulative vultures in my house? That's all I need.*

"She seemed so eager to spend time with me last night," Grandma Eleanor continued, her expression growing soft and slightly melancholy. "We talked for hours about her childhood, her dreams for the future. She even called out my name in her sleep a few times, like she was reaching for comfort."

The genuine emotion in her voice made me set down my fork and really look at her. Despite everything I knew about Vivian's schemes, I could see that Grandma Eleanor had been genuinely touched by what she perceived as a granddaughter's need for connection.

I reached across the table and took her hand. "Grandma, if you want Vivian to visit, of course that's fine. She is your granddaughter, after all, and she's been part of your life for years."

"Really?" Grandma Eleanor's face lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," I said with a smile I hoped looked more genuine than it felt. "Besides, with all our staff here to keep an eye on things, what kind of trouble could she possibly cause? But maybe we keep it to just Vivian—Richard and Monica can stay home."

Grandma Eleanor laughed, the sound bright and delighted. "Oh, absolutely! Your stepfather is a complete fool. You know, it's funny—he used to call you his little princess, treated you like you hung the moon and stars. But the moment he found out you weren't his biological daughter?" She shook her head in disgust. "Threw you away like yesterday's garbage. No loyalty, no character whatsoever."

I felt a familiar pang at the memory. For eighteen years, Richard had been the only father I'd known. He'd taught me to ride a bike, helped with homework, told me bedtime stories. His love had felt real and unconditional—until the day he discovered I wasn't his blood.

"Ancient history, Grandma," I said with a shrug, though the wound still ached sometimes. "Let's not waste time on people who don't deserve it. Finish your lunch so we can watch something mindless and entertaining on that massive TV I bought you."

But as I picked at my soufflé, my mind wandered to questions I'd been avoiding for years. Where were my biological parents now? Did they ever think about the daughter they'd given up? Were they happy? Did they have other children who'd gotten the love and stability that should have been mine?

*Maybe someday I'll have the courage to find out.*

For now, though, I had Grandma Eleanor, and despite all the family drama swirling around us, that felt like enough.

"You know what?" I said, reaching for the remote control. "Let's watch something completely ridiculous. Something with explosions and attractive people making terrible decisions."

"Perfect," Grandma Eleanor said with a grin. "I do love a good disaster."

*Don't we all,* I thought, settling in beside her as the opening credits rolled.