The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 181

Orion

The mortification of being called out for my completely wrong assumption hit me like a bucket of ice water. I could feel every ounce of blood in my body rushing to my face as I slowly made my way back to the living room, trying to salvage whatever dignity I had left.

"What I meant," I said with as much composure as I could muster, "was that if you had private business matters to discuss, we should find a private room for our meeting."

Aveline stood up abruptly, crossing her arms and fixing me with a look that could have melted steel. "It seems like your encounter with Miss... Candy... has had quite an effect on your physical state, which is clearly affecting your mental faculties and basic judgment."

I felt my embarrassment deepen, but I tried to maintain some semblance of defense. "I have absolutely no interest in large—if I did have any interest, it would be—"

"Well," she interrupted with icy efficiency, "since you appear to have regained some clarity, perhaps you can help me review these materials."

She dumped a substantial stack of documents onto the coffee table with enough force to make me realize this was serious business. The papers looked aged, some with coffee stains and others bearing the unmistakable patina of neglect. I immediately shifted into professional mode, my earlier embarrassment forgotten as I recognized the gravity of whatever situation had brought her here.

I sat down across from her and began methodically sorting through the documents. Everything was stamped with "Hartwell Industries" letterhead, and as I organized them into categories—financial statements, production workflows, personnel files, regulatory compliance reports—a picture began to emerge of a company in serious decline.

Aveline watched me work with obvious approval, and I caught the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she settled into the chair across from me, elegantly crossing her legs.

"Since I've officially taken control of the company," she said, her tone becoming more serious, "I suppose that makes me a CEO now. Grandma Eleanor has been... well, she's made it clear that she wants to see the company restored to its former glory. And honestly? I find myself wanting the same thing."

I looked up from a particularly damning financial report, studying her expression carefully. "Are you saying you're changing careers entirely? You're giving up teaching to run a manufacturing company?"

Her smile widened slightly. "What's wrong? Don't think I'm capable of being a CEO? Don't forget that Laurent and I have been successfully running our European operations—"

"I'm not questioning your business acumen," I interrupted, but I could feel my throat tightening. "I'm asking whether this means you won't be teaching Ryan anymore."

The question hung in the air between us, heavier than I'd intended. Aveline's expression shifted, and I caught a flicker of something that looked like guilt in her eyes.

"That's exactly why I sent Ryan away just now," she said quietly. "I needed to discuss this with you first. I... I won't be able to continue as a kindergarten teacher."

*Well,* I thought to myself, *considering you'll be my wife soon enough, you'll still be living with Ryan regardless of your career choices.* The thought brought an involuntary smile to my face, which seemed to ease her obvious anxiety about the situation.

"Don't worry about that," I said with what I hoped was reassuring confidence. "I imagine you'll still be seeing Ryan quite regularly."

She nodded without hesitation, as if the idea of being separated from Ryan was unthinkable. The ease with which she accepted this reality confirmed what I'd suspected—she'd already become an integral part of his life, and by extension, mine.

"Ryan's confident enough now to adjust to a new teacher," I continued. "He's learned to interact with other children, and he's developed the social skills he needed. Would you agree?"

"Absolutely," she said with obvious pride. "He's become such a confident, well-adjusted little boy."

I clapped my hands together decisively. "Then it's settled. Your relationship with Ryan doesn't have to change just because your job title does. You'll still be an important part of his life."

She accepted this statement with remarkable ease, as if the idea of being permanently connected to our family was the most natural thing in the world.

"So go ahead and pursue your CEO dreams," I said with genuine encouragement. "You have my full support."

Her face lit up with excitement. "So you're going to help me?"

I scratched my head, pretending to consider this more carefully than I actually was. "It's hard to refuse a powerful, influential woman who also happens to be my son's favorite person. What exactly do you need from me?"

She practically bounced in her seat. "These are important documents I retrieved from the company. I've done some preliminary analysis, but I need your expertise to confirm my findings."

I turned my attention to the papers with renewed focus. "Hartwell Industries was actually quite prestigious thirty years ago," I said, scanning through historical production records. "They specialized in high-precision component manufacturing and materials science—the kind of work that supplied luxury watchmakers, aerospace companies, even military contractors with micro-precision metal and composite parts."

As I spoke, I noticed Aveline leaning forward slightly, her attention completely focused on my analysis. There was something almost magnetic about her concentration.

"For any company looking to reclaim its former status," I continued, "step one is identifying your core competitive advantage. You can either build on existing strengths or innovate for current market demands."

She nodded intently, and I caught her unconsciously biting her lower lip in concentration—a gesture that was more distracting than it should have been.

"Step two," I said, forcing myself to focus on the documents, "is eliminating the parasites." I pulled out several personnel files and expense reports. "Look at these department heads—all promoted by Richard within the past two years. Their departments have the highest overhead and lowest profit margins. And here," I pointed to a series of invoices, "these expense reports all trace back to a single 'supplier' that's registered under your stepmother Monica's name. These people are bleeding the company dry. They need to be removed immediately."

I could see Aveline's hands clench into fists, her jaw tightening with obvious anger, but she continued nodding for me to continue.

"Step three is strategic personnel management," I said, pulling out termination records. "Look at these files—people like Michael Harrison, head of R&D, who worked for your grandfather for thirty years. Sandra James, quality control manager, known for her exacting standards. All of these experienced professionals were fired in Richard's first year for being 'outdated' or 'too expensive.'"

Aveline had risen from her chair and was now standing much closer to me, ostensibly to get a better view of the documents, but her proximity was making it difficult to concentrate.

"I think you should reach out to these former employees," I continued, acutely aware of her presence. "Their institutional knowledge could be invaluable for your restoration efforts."

"Well, you don't need to say anything else," she said softly, but instead of returning to her seat, she moved even closer.

"Your analysis is precise and hits exactly where it hurts. I have a clear picture of what needs to be done next."

"Good," I managed, suddenly very aware of how close she was standing. "The competitive advantage identification is probably the most crucial—"

"I'm afraid," she interrupted, her voice taking on a different quality entirely, "I can't continue sitting here listening to you display this kind of... irresistible appeal."

I blinked, confused by the sudden shift in her tone. "Appeal? What are you talking about?"