The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 178

Aveline

Saturday morning sunlight streamed through my bedroom windows, and I realized I'd slept deeply and woken up later than usual, feeling genuinely relaxed.

I padded toward Grandma Eleanor's room to check on her, but found only an empty bed with sheets already neatly made. The sound of laughter drifting from our garden drew my attention, and I followed the melodic voices through the French doors onto the stone pathway that wound between our carefully cultivated flower beds.

There they were—Grandma Eleanor and Vivian, both wearing wide-brimmed sun hats and gardening gloves, standing among the prize-winning roses that had been Eleanor's passion project for years. They were deep in animated conversation, Vivian gesturing enthusiastically at a cluster of deep crimson blooms.

"I had no idea roses came in this color!" Vivian was saying, her voice carrying a genuine wonder I'd never heard from her before. "Back in the countryside, we only had these wild pink ones that grew by the fence. My stepfather would get angry if I picked them because he said they'd just die anyway, but I always thought they were the most beautiful things I'd ever seen."

Eleanor's face lit up with obvious delight. "Oh darling, wait until you see the David Austin varieties blooming next month! And these here," she moved to a section of pale yellow roses with peachy edges, "these are called 'Lady of Shalott.' They're English roses—absolutely divine fragrance."

"I never knew there were so many different types," Vivian said softly, bending down to inhale the scent. "Back home, a flower was just a flower. I didn't know they had names and histories and personalities."

I stood there watching this interaction with a mixture of emotions I couldn't quite sort through. There was something almost painful about seeing Grandma Eleanor so genuinely happy, her eyes bright with the joy of sharing her passion with someone who appreciated it.

*She's her real granddaughter,* I reminded myself firmly. *If Vivian can bring this kind of joy to Eleanor's life, that's what matters.*

I approached them slowly, expecting to see Vivian tense up or retreat into her usual defensive posture. But when she looked up and saw me coming, her expression remained remarkably calm—not hostile, not fearful, just... peaceful.

"You're finally awake," she said with a slight smile that seemed completely genuine. "Grandma has been showing me her botanical empire. I had no idea you two were running such a sophisticated operation out here."

I found myself studying her face for any trace of the calculated manipulation I'd grown so accustomed to, but found none. There was something different about her—a kind of resigned serenity that I'd never seen before.

"Well," I said, moving closer to examine the roses they'd been discussing, "I hope you're just observing and not attempting any hands-on gardening." I gently touched the petals of a particularly delicate bloom, demonstrating the proper technique. "These David Austin roses require very specific care—precise pruning angles, carefully timed fertilization schedules, and the watering has to be done at soil level to prevent black spot disease." I looked up at Vivian meaningfully. "One wrong move and you can kill a plant that's taken years to establish."

I caught Grandma Eleanor's expression darkening slightly at my somewhat condescending tone, but she remained silent, clearly waiting to see how Vivian would respond.

To my surprise, Vivian didn't rise to the bait at all. She simply nodded thoughtfully and settled herself on the stone steps that led down to the lower garden level.

"You're absolutely right," she said with complete equanimity. "I don't know anything about the technical aspects of gardening. But honestly? Just being able to look at them and smell them and listen to Grandma tell stories about each variety—that's enough to make me happy." She gestured toward the carefully arranged flower beds. "You can handle all the expert care. I'm content just being an appreciative audience."

I felt my defensive posture relax slightly. There was something disarmingly honest about her response, something that felt more real than any interaction I'd ever had with her.

Grandma Eleanor's expression brightened again, and she moved to sit beside Vivian on the steps. "You know, dear, some of the best gardeners I've known started out exactly like you—just loving the beauty of it all before learning the technical details."

Vivian leaned back against the stone railing, looking more relaxed than I'd ever seen her. "Speaking of technical details," she said, glancing at me with an almost mischievous expression, "Aveline, now that you've bought Grandma's company, I imagine you'll have even less time for flower maintenance and grandmotherly bonding sessions."

The casual way she delivered this bombshell made my stomach drop. Grandma Eleanor's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock.

"What? My company was sold? To Aveline?" She looked back and forth between us, confusion and concern warring on her features.

I opened my mouth to explain, but Vivian held up a hand to stop me.

"Let me tell this story," she said calmly, helping Eleanor settle more comfortably on the steps. "Grandma, what I'm about to tell you might be upsetting, but I promised myself I'd spend this month being completely honest about everything."

Eleanor gripped the stone railing, bracing herself.

"Remember when Richard asked you to sign over your company shares so he could get a loan?" Vivian's voice was steady, matter-of-fact. "That was a lie. He never intended to borrow money against the company. He wanted control so he could sell it outright."

Eleanor's face went pale, her hand flying to her throat.

"Yes," Vivian continued with that same eerily calm tone, "the pregnancy, the miscarriage, the desperate need for money—all of it was fabricated. I helped him manipulate you into giving up something you treasured because we thought we could make a fortune selling it."

I watched this confession unfold with amazement. The old Vivian would have delivered this kind of revelation with dramatic tears or defensive anger. This version was simply stating facts, as if she were discussing the weather.

"The plan backfired spectacularly," Vivian continued, "because Aveline's protective boyfriend decided to intervene. Instead of getting the millions we expected, Richard was forced to sell for a fraction of the company's worth. And now," she gestured toward me with something that might have been respect, "the company is safely in Aveline's hands."

Grandma Eleanor's expression had been cycling through shock, hurt, and anger, but when Vivian mentioned my "boyfriend," a different kind of light entered her eyes.

"This boyfriend of yours," Eleanor said, turning to me with obvious curiosity and approval, "he certainly seems devoted to your interests."

"He's not my boyfriend," I said quickly. "We're just... friends. Business associates."

"Of course," Eleanor said with a knowing smile. "Just friends." She looked between Vivian and me. "But Vivian makes an excellent point about your future responsibilities."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Eleanor said, her voice taking on a more serious tone, "you didn't buy that company just to let it continue failing, did you? You understand what that business meant to your grandfather and me?"

Vivian nodded emphatically. "Exactly what I was thinking. You bought it because you're planning to restore it, right? Turn it back into something worth being proud of?"

I found myself under the scrutiny of both women, their expectant expressions making me suddenly nervous. "I... well, yes, I have thought about that possibility. But running a company, being a CEO, trying to rebuild something that's been failing for years—I'm not sure I'm qualified for that kind of responsibility."

Grandma Eleanor immediately moved to sit on my other side, creating a triangle of conversation on the garden steps. "Sweetheart, I've never known you to back down from a challenge. And this company..." her voice grew soft with emotion, "it was your grandfather's legacy. The foundation of everything we built together. I don't need it to become some massive empire, but I'd love to see its reputation restored. Right now, the Hartwell name is associated with failure and mismanagement. It breaks my heart."

I listened to the pain in her voice and felt something shift inside me. This wasn't just about business or money—this was about family honor, about preserving something meaningful that had been degraded by people who didn't understand its value.

Vivian leaned forward, her expression more animated than I'd seen it all morning. "And don't worry about Grandma feeling neglected while you're busy playing CEO. I made a promise to myself last night—I'm going to make sure this month is the best she's had in years."

I looked at Vivian carefully, searching for any hint of hidden agenda or manipulation. But all I saw was genuine determination and what appeared to be sincere affection for Eleanor.

"You know," I said slowly, "this is the first time you've ever said something that made me believe you might actually mean it."