The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 23

Aveline

"Emergency?" I said, lowering my voice to match his whisper. "Ryan, what kind of emergency?"

"Daddy brought a woman home!" Ryan's voice was filled with the kind of dramatic distress only a five-year-old could muster.

I blinked, momentarily confused. "A woman?"

My first instinct was to laugh. Of course he brought a woman home. He was Orion Blackwell—devastatingly handsome, incredibly wealthy, and completely single. It would be stranger if he didn't have women in his life. What exactly was Ryan expecting me to do about his father's dating life?

"Ryan, sweetheart," I said gently, "your daddy is a grown man. Sometimes grown-ups have... friends over to discuss work things. It's not really an emergency."

"No, no, you don't understand!" Ryan's voice rose slightly before he caught himself and dropped back to a whisper. "Daddy never brings women home! Ever! Because if he does, I told him I'll go on a hunger strike for three days!"

I had to bite back a smile at his dramatic declaration. "A hunger strike? Really?"

"I'm very serious about this, Miss Aveline. And Daddy knows I mean it because I did it before when that mean lady from the bank tried to have dinner with us."

Despite the absurdity of the situation, I felt a flutter of concern. "Where are you calling from? And how do you have a phone?"

"I'm hiding in Daddy's bedroom," Ryan whispered conspiratorially. "He's taking a shower, so I borrowed his phone. His assistant is downstairs with the lady, but I snuck up here when no one was looking."

A cold realization hit me. The phone call during dinner. The way Orion had said "tonight" with such finality. The investigation into Catherine's fake ring collection.

"Ryan," I said carefully, "what does this woman look like?"

"She has short blonde hair and she's dressed really... flashy? Like she's trying too hard to look fancy. Her shoes are super tall and clicky, and she smells like she dumped a whole bottle of perfume on herself. It's really gross."

My stomach dropped. That description could only be Catherine.

Poor, stupid Catherine who thought she was being invited over for a romantic evening. Who probably spent hours getting ready, choosing her most impressive outfit, thinking she'd finally caught the attention of Manhattan's most eligible bachelor.

She had no idea she'd walked into a trap.

"Listen to me, Ryan," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "You need to put that phone back exactly where you found it and go to your room. Whatever your daddy is doing with his friend, it's grown-up business that you don't need to worry about, okay?"

"But Miss Aveline—"

"No buts. She's probably just a business associate or an old friend. Adults have all kinds of boring conversations about boring things. Just go to bed and let them handle their boring adult stuff."

"I don't think she's boring," Ryan said dubiously. "She kept asking the assistant about Daddy's money and how big the house is and whether he has any girlfriends. That doesn't sound like business to me."

Christ. Catherine really was that transparent.

"Ryan, I promise you, there's nothing to worry about. Your daddy loves you very much, and no random woman is going to change that."

"Really?" His voice was small and hopeful.

"Really. But you have to promise me you'll put that phone back and go to your room. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay, Miss Aveline. I promise. I won't let any other lady try to be my mommy anyway. I'll keep watching them to make sure."

Before I could respond to that slightly ominous declaration, Ryan's voice became urgent again.

"Oh no! I think I hear Daddy finishing his shower! I have to go put this back right now!"

"Go, go!" I whispered back. "And remember, straight to your room after!"

I heard the sound of small feet running across what must have been hardwood floors, followed by the distant sound of a door closing. Then there was the faint noise of running water being turned off.

I was about to hang up when I realized the call was still connected. Ryan must have forgotten to end it in his rush to return the phone.

I should hang up immediately. This was a private conversation I had no business listening to. Whatever was about to happen between Orion and Catherine was none of my concern.

But my finger hovered over the end call button, unable to press it.

The practical part of my brain screamed at me to disconnect. The last thing I needed was to accidentally overhear something that might implicate me further. If Orion was about to interrogate Catherine about the ring, if she was about to confess to lying, if any of this conversation revealed that I was the real culprit...

But I couldn't bring myself to hang up. Catherine might be vain and desperate and foolish, but she didn't deserve whatever Orion had planned for people who "needed to learn that actions have consequences."

Even if I couldn't help her, I needed to know what I might be facing if he ever discovered the truth about me.

Through the phone, I heard the soft sound of a door opening, then footsteps—measured, confident, male. Orion, presumably, emerging from his shower.

Then, a moment later, I heard the sharp click of high heels on marble, moving faster than was probably wise. Catherine, no doubt, making her way upstairs to wherever she thought this romantic evening was heading.

My heart pounded as I pressed the phone closer to my ear, torn between terror and morbid curiosity.

Whatever was about to happen, I was about to witness exactly how Orion Blackwell dealt with people who lied to him.

And God help me, I couldn't look away.