The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 207

Vivian

In this final hour, I had made peace with my fate. The worst possibilities no longer seemed abstract—they felt inevitable, almost comforting in their certainty. My mind wandered through the fragments of my twenty-something years of existence, collecting memories like treasures I could take with me.

I thought about Richard, a man selfish to his core, yet whose love for me had been a fierce, real thing. I thought about Grandmother, who, for all her adoration of Aveline, had still held a place of true kindness for me in her heart. And strangely, I found myself imagining Aveline's face—not the cold expression I was used to, but something softer, forgiving, like she understood the choices I'd made in these final moments.

*Let whatever comes, come,* I thought, closing my eyes. *I'm ready.*

The sound of the door opening again made me look up, but this time it wasn't just one person. Devan entered first, followed by Dwayne and three or four men in black suits who moved with military precision. Seeing Devan brought an unexpected sense of relief—not because I thought I might be spared, but because his presence meant this was the final negotiation. Whatever came next would end all of this suffering, even if I had to endure more pain before finding peace.

My mouth twitched involuntarily at the sight of him. He was dressed impeccably, as if he were heading to a board meeting rather than an interrogation. Everything about his appearance suggested a man who believed in the civilized rules of business negotiation.

Before any of them could speak, I decided to take control of the conversation.

"I have no valuable information for you," I said, my voice stronger than I'd expected. "I can't help you capture Aveline, and I won't try. Whatever you're planning to do to me, just get it over with. But if you can't guarantee I'll die quickly, I'll curse every single one of you fucking pieces of shit until my last breath."

The anger in my voice surprised even me, growing stronger with each word.

Devan pulled up a chair and sat directly in front of me while his men arranged themselves in a semicircle behind him. This was clearly meant to be a one-on-one negotiation, with an audience of enforcers.

Instead of anger, Devan's eyes showed something like admiration. "Excellent! Direct and efficient. I appreciate working with people like you."

I stared at him coldly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"The truth is," Devan continued with casual indifference, "I don't need your information anymore. Tomorrow I have a very important wager to win, and I've found the perfect role for you to play. You won't need to think at all—I've worked out every detail."

The way he spoke about my life as if it were a chess piece made my stomach churn. He was even more disgusting than his son.

Devan casually pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward me. When I saw the image displayed there, my blood turned to ice.

"Yes, yes, exactly that expression!" he said with obvious delight. "I can't believe it took me this long to realize I had access to someone far more valuable than you. Someone who matters a hundred times more."

Dwayne stepped forward, grinning. "I should have thought of this earlier, Dad."

"Indeed," Devan continued, clearly enjoying my horror. "The only problem is that your grandmother's house is currently surrounded by those Kozlov mongrels. We can't simply grab her. So here's what you're going to do—call her and convince her to leave the house. A trip to the grocery store, a senior center activity, anything that gets the old woman out in the open. Once we have her, Aveline and Orion will agree to any terms we set."

The rage that erupted in my chest was unlike anything I'd ever felt. "Don't you dare call her that! Don't you fucking dare! Aveline'll hunt you down!"

I began kicking at Devan with what little strength I had left, thrashing against my restraints with desperate fury.

Devan clapped his hands, a slow, deliberate sound. "Perfect. My sources were right. You and Aveline are both wrapped around her little finger. Which makes my victory tomorrow a certainty. Well... provided you cooperate.

He gestured to his men, who immediately moved forward to hold me still. Strong hands gripped my arms and legs, making resistance impossible.

Devan took my phone from his pocket and grabbed my finger, forcing it against the scanner despite my struggles. The device unlocked with a cheerful chime that sounded obscene in this nightmare setting.

"Now then," he said, scrolling through my contacts, "are you ready to cooperate?"

My face was a mask of pure hatred. If looks could kill, Devan would have been incinerated on the spot.

"I can see you still don't understand the gravity of your situation," he said with mock disappointment. He snapped his fingers, and one of his men handed him a knife—a long, sharp blade that gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights.

He held it up, admiring the reflection. "You know, a woman's face is her most precious asset. I'd hate for you to have an accident."

The sight of the blade so close to my skin made my legs weak with terror. The abstract concept of death was one thing, but the immediate threat of disfigurement awakened a primal fear I couldn't control. But then I thought of Grandmother, innocent and trusting, and the emotional pain was worse than any physical threat.

"Please," I whispered, hating how small my voice sounded. "Leave her out of this."

"There we go," Devan said approvingly, placing the tip of the knife gently under my chin. "That's exactly the tone you should use when you talk to her. Soft, concerned, loving."

He began dialing Grandmother's number. The electronic ringing seemed to echo in my skull like a death knell. *Please don't answer,* I prayed desperately. *Please, Grandmother, don't pick up the phone.*

But after four rings, her familiar voice came through the speaker.

"Hello, Vivian! Where are you, dear? You still haven't come home."

Devan pressed the knife forward just enough to break the skin. I felt a warm trickle of blood run down my neck.

"Watch your beautiful face," he whispered.

My entire body was shaking with terror, but hearing Grandmother's voice—so full of warmth and concern—gave me strength I didn't know I possessed.

"Grandmother," I managed to say, fighting to keep my voice steady. "I'm... I'm fine. I'm still out, but I'll be home soon."

"You sound strange, dear. Like you're nervous about something. Where exactly are you? I'm terribly bored—perhaps I should have the driver take me to meet you somewhere."

Devan's eyes lit up with anticipation, and he pressed the knife a fraction deeper. Everyone in the room was leaning forward, waiting for me to deliver the words that would seal Grandmother's fate.

This was it. The moment that would define who I really was.

I looked out the small window at the late afternoon sky, taking what I knew might be my last breath as a free person. There was a strange peace in knowing exactly what I was about to do.

The room fell silent as everyone waited for me to speak. Devan's smile was triumphant, Dwayne was practically bouncing with excitement, and the enforcers stood ready to spring into action.

Instead of the compliance they expected, I suddenly shouted at the top of my lungs:

"Grandmother, don't leave the house! Someone wants to kidnap you and Aveline! Don't trust anyone! Don't worry about me!"

The reaction was instantaneous. Devan's face turned purple with rage as he immediately ended the call. "You bitch! You fucking bitch!"

Dwayne began pacing frantically, cursing under his breath.

Devan raised the knife high above his head, his face contorted with fury. "You've just signed your own death warrant!"

But just as he began to bring the blade down toward my face, a thunderous pounding erupted from outside the door.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Everyone froze, the knife suspended in midair, as we all realized that our nightmare was about to take a very different turn.