The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 173

Orion

The moment Aveline left my office, I threw myself back into work with desperate intensity. The government bid deadline was the Friday after next—ten days away—and I still had mountains of technical specifications to review, financial projections to finalize, and presentation materials to perfect before submitting everything to the federal acquisition team.

But every time I looked at my computer screen, my concentration shattered. Instead of seeing spreadsheets and technical diagrams, all I could think about was her. The way she'd looked sitting on my desk, the confident way she'd discussed business strategy, the casual mention of our "alliance" that somehow felt like so much more.

*Jesus, Aveline,* I thought, rubbing my temples in frustration. *How much longer is this wife charade going to continue? I'm losing my fucking mind.*

The word "wife" shouldn't be so intoxicating. It was ordinary, mundane—something millions of people said every day without a second thought. But when it came to her, it felt like the most erotic word in the English language. Every time I saw her, every interaction we had, I wanted to pull her close and whisper it against her skin: *my wife.*

My phone buzzed with a text message, breaking through my increasingly dangerous thoughts.

**Aveline: Oh! I forgot to mention—Ryan is sleeping over at my place tonight. I meant to tell you earlier but it completely slipped my mind!**

I couldn't help but smile as I typed back.

**Orion: No problem at all. Maybe my irresistible charm is affecting your memory.**

Her response was immediate and predictably indignant.

**Aveline: You arrogant ass! Your charm is nonexistent!**

I set my phone down with satisfaction, feeling oddly pleased that I could still get such passionate reactions from her even through text messages. There was something deeply gratifying about being able to ruffle her composure so easily.

I was just settling back into reviewing the quantum encryption specifications when my phone rang. Davidson's name appeared on the caller ID.

"The contract has been signed," he reported without preamble. "Richard Hartwell has officially transferred ownership of the company. Fifty thousand dollars, as agreed."

"Excellent work," I said, already reaching for the next document in my pile. "I assume the transfer went smoothly?"

"Well, yes, but..." Davidson's voice carried an unusual note of hesitation. "I have to say, I've been practicing law for over twenty years, and I've never seen expressions quite like theirs. Complete and utter despair. The kind of hopelessness that makes people dangerous."

I paused, my pen hovering over a contract clause. "They'll adjust. The drop from five million to fifty hundred thousand would devastate anyone."

"Mr. Blackwell," Davidson said quietly, "I'm not talking about Richard. I'm talking about their daughter, Vivian. The hatred in her eyes when she looked at that contract... in all my years dealing with corporate disputes and family feuds, I've never seen anything quite like it. She looked like someone who had absolutely nothing left to lose."

A chill ran down my spine, but not from fear for myself. Vivian. I'd investigated her background thoroughly after the kidnapping incident—I knew about her history with Aveline, the jealousy, the increasingly unstable behavior.

"The girl is unhinged," Davidson continued, his professional composure cracking slightly. "Genuinely dangerous. I've seen plenty of people lose everything, but the look in her eyes... she's past rational thought now. Pure vengeance mode."

I hung up without another word, my hand already moving to my secure phone. The worry gnawing at my chest had nothing to do with my own safety and everything to do with Aveline. Vivian had already proven she was willing to put Aveline in danger once—orchestrating that dinner party that nearly ended with Dwayne assaulting her. If she was truly as unhinged as Davidson suggested...

The thought of anyone laying a finger on Aveline sent a wave of cold rage through my system. I'd been merciful with Vivian after the kidnapping attempt, choosing not to destroy her completely out of some misguided sense of proportional response. But if she dared to threaten Aveline again, mercy was off the table.

I scrolled through my contacts until I found the number I needed. Viktor Kozlov answered on the second ring, his heavily accented voice immediately deferential.

"Mr. Blackwell. How can the Kozlov family be of service?"

"I have someone who needs protection," I said without preamble. "Aveline Reeves. Immediate implementation."

"Of course, sir. Just protection? Or would you prefer us to... eliminate any specific threats?"

"Elimination comes later. Right now, I'm too busy to deal with cleanup." I leaned back in my chair, my voice dropping to that cold tone that meant business. "What level of protection would you recommend?"

"For someone you personally request? Executive-level protection, sir. Round-the-clock surveillance, multiple teams, immediate response protocols."

"Make it Presidential-grade," I said flatly. "If I see so much as a suspicious glance in her direction, you'll be looking for a new line of work. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal clear, Mr. Blackwell. We'll have people in position within the hour."

I was about to hang up when another thought struck me—cold, calculating, final.

"Viktor, one more thing."

"Yes, sir?"

"I need a complete background check on someone. Everything. Financial records, daily routines, known associates, family connections, psychological profiles." My voice dropped to barely above a whisper, each word deliberate and deadly. "I want to know what she eats for breakfast, where she shops, who she talks to, and what time she goes to bed. Full surveillance package."

There was a pause on the other end, and when Viktor spoke again, his voice carried the cautious tone of someone who understood he was being asked to sign someone's death warrant.

"Of course, Mr. Blackwell. Who is the target?"

The silence stretched for several heartbeats.

"Vivian Hartwell."