The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 202

Vivian

The darkness was absolute, suffocating in a way I'd never experienced before. I had lost all sense of time in this wretched place—hours could have passed, or days. My wrists burned where the rough rope cut into my skin, my arms aching from being suspended above my head, attached to the thick wooden beam that ran vertically through the center of this hellish room.

They hadn't spoken to me since Dwayne had shoved me in here. No interrogation, no threats, no violence—just this endless, maddening isolation. Somehow, the silence was worse than any beating would have been. It gave my mind too much time to wander, to question whether saving Aveline had been worth condemning myself to whatever twisted punishment Dwayne was planning.

*What was I thinking? Of course he'd see this as betrayal. What did I expect—gratitude?*

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, pale moonlight began filtering through a small, grimy window high on the wall. The faint illumination revealed the outline of my prison, and what I saw made my blood run cold. This wasn't just an abandoned warehouse room—it was something far more sinister.

Rusted chains hung from various points on the ceiling like twisted party decorations. In one corner stood a metal table covered with dark stains that I didn't want to identify. Tools—pliers, knives, other implements I couldn't name—were arranged with methodical precision on a smaller table nearby. The shadows cast by the moonlight turned everything into grotesque shapes that seemed to move and writhe in my peripheral vision.

*Jesus Christ. How many people have been brought here before me?*

Exhaustion finally began to override my terror. My legs, already shaking from the strain of supporting my weight for so long, felt ready to give out completely. Despite the impossibility of finding comfort in my current position, I felt my eyelids growing heavy. Fear had kept me alert for hours, but even adrenaline had its limits.

I dozed fitfully, suspended in that awkward, painful position, my head lolling forward as unconsciousness mercifully claimed me.

*****

In my dream, I wasn't Vivian anymore. I was living Aveline's life, but it was the life I'd always imagined she should have—the one I'd convinced myself had been stolen from me.

I stood in a gorgeous, sunlit mansion, watching Grandmother chase a beautiful toddler through the spacious rooms. The child had enormous dark eyes and an infectious giggle, and though I'd never seen him before, I knew with dream-logic certainty that he was my son. He clung to me when I picked him up, babbling about his day with "Nana" while I apologized for being too busy to play.

"Mommy has to work," I told him gently, kissing his forehead. "But I'll read you a story before bed, okay?"

I was in my home office, surrounded by fabric samples, design sketches, and photographs—preparing for a fashion show I was directing. My own fashion show, featuring my own designs, my own vision finally coming to life.

A man entered carrying a steaming mug of coffee, and when I looked up at him, my heart nearly stopped. He wasn't Dwayne—this was someone completely different. Warm brown eyes, a gentle smile, hands that reached for me with genuine affection rather than possessive hunger.

"Babe, you've been working for hours," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. "Come to bed. You can finish this tomorrow."

I laughed, leaning back against his chest. "I can't—the show is in two days, and as the creative director, I need everything to be perfect."

He kissed the top of my head. "Okay, but at least drink my special coffee blend. I'll be waiting for you upstairs."

As I returned to my work, typing furiously on my laptop, planning every detail of what would be my greatest professional triumph, I felt complete in a way I'd never experienced in real life. This was what I'd always wanted—success earned through my own talent, a family that loved me, a partner who supported my dreams instead of using them as leverage.

But then the laptop screen began to flicker. At first, I thought it was just a minor glitch, but the flashing grew more intense, more erratic. A horrible ringing filled my ears, growing louder and more disorienting by the second.

I looked around wildly for my husband, my child, Grandmother—but they were fading, dissolving like smoke, becoming translucent before disappearing entirely. The beautiful room around me began to crumble, the warm lights dimming until there was nothing left but—

SPLASH!

Ice-cold water hit me like a physical blow, jolting me back to consciousness with such violence that I gasped and choked. The dream evaporated instantly, replaced by the brutal reality of my situation. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, my clothes were soaked through, and harsh fluorescent lights suddenly blazed to life, temporarily blinding me.

When my vision cleared, I found myself face-to-face with Dwayne and his two thugs. His expression was one of mock concern mixed with sadistic amusement.

"Well, well," he said with false cheer. "Looks like we've been treating you too well, Vivian. You were sleeping so peacefully."

The taller of his companions chuckled. "She was even smiling, boss. Must have been one hell of a dream."

Dwayne's face instantly darkened. Without warning, his hand cracked across my cheek with enough force to make my head snap to the side. The sting was immediate and intense, but it was nothing compared to the rage in his eyes.

"Smiling?" he snarled. "You treacherous bitch! You had the audacity to betray me, to ruin everything I've been working toward, and then you have the fucking nerve to smile while I decide how to punish you?"

The pain in my face was sharp, but clearer than the physical hurt was the sudden, crystal-clear realization of how pathetic my situation truly was. I'd spent years pinning my hopes on this man, convincing myself that if I just helped him enough, sacrificed enough, he'd eventually give me the life I wanted. But looking at him now—seeing the genuine hatred and contempt in his expression—I understood that he never would have. Even if we'd succeeded in destroying Aveline and Orion, Dwayne would never have treated me as an equal partner.

"You could fight them honorably," I said, my voice hoarse but defiant. "You don't need to resort to kidnapping and manipulation."

Dwayne actually laughed—a harsh, ugly sound that echoed off the concrete walls. "You're lecturing me about honor? You, who spent years plotting against your own family? Don't tell me a few days living in that mansion turned you into some kind of saint."

His spittle hit my face as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You've caused me more trouble tonight than you're worth, and instead of begging for forgiveness, you're giving me moral guidance? Fine. You want to play the righteous victim? Let's see how long that lasts."

"You're pathetic," I shot back, anger giving me strength I didn't know I possessed. "You can only intimidate a tied-up woman when you have two men backing you up. What kind of man does that make you?"

Dwayne grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. "I really did underestimate you, didn't I? You've got more fight in you than I expected. But don't worry—that's going to make breaking you so much more satisfying."

He stepped back and exchanged a look with his two companions. Something passed between them—some kind of silent communication that made my stomach drop with dread.

As they moved toward me with unmistakable intent, I realized that whatever was about to happen, the nightmare was just beginning.