The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 235

Aveline

The past week had transformed our lives into something resembling a high-security prison. I'd drastically reduced my visits to Orion's penthouse, and after lengthy discussions with Vivian, we'd managed to convince Grandmother that staying home was the best option for the immediate future.

"It's just until the spring weather improves, Grandmama," I'd explained gently. "You know how unpredictable April can be, and we don't want you catching cold."

Grandmother had accepted our reasoning with surprising grace, especially since both Vivian and I were now staying home to keep her company. "Having my girls with me is worth missing a few garden club meetings," she'd said with genuine warmth.

Under Orion's direction, our family estate had been transformed into a fortress. Motion sensors lined every pathway, infrared cameras covered every angle, and pressure plates monitored the grounds so sensitively that even a squirrel couldn't cross the lawn without triggering an alert. The security upgrades were invisible to the casual observer but comprehensive enough to detect anything larger than an insect.

I kept hoping this paranoid atmosphere would fade quickly, but deep down, I knew we were already at war. The enemy remained faceless, their capabilities unknown, but the threat felt as real as the weapons our guards carried.

Even though I couldn't imagine anyone in New York having more resources than Victor Kozlov's organization, something about this situation felt different. More personal. More dangerous.

After dinner that evening, Vivian and I had spent an hour in quiet conversation in the sunroom. I could see the guilt eating away at her—the constant self-recrimination over her actions, the fear that her need for revenge had endangered everyone she cared about. I did my best to comfort her, reminding her that we'd all made choices that led to this moment.

"We're family," I'd told her firmly. "We face consequences together."

By the time I returned to my room, I felt marginally better. My video call with Orion had helped restore some sense of normalcy—seeing his face, hearing him describe Ryan's latest adventures with his train set, sharing the small intimacies that couples take for granted.

I was practically humming as I prepared for my bath, looking forward to washing away the day's tension in the large soaking tub. The hot water and lavender bath salts worked their magic, leaving me feeling refreshed and optimistic for the first time in days.

Wrapped in my favorite silk robe, I emerged from the bathroom feeling almost human again. The bedroom was softly lit by the bedside lamps, everything exactly as I'd left it. Or so I thought.

As I approached the bed, something caught my eye. The white pillowcase seemed... different. There was a reddish stain along one edge that definitely hadn't been there before.

My blood turned to ice as I leaned closer.

Placed deliberately beneath my pillow was a single white rose—but this wasn't the fresh, beautiful variety from our garden. This flower was withered and dying, its petals brown around the edges. Worse, a single drop of what looked unmistakably like blood clung to one of the thorns.

Beside the macabre flower lay a small card made of heavy, expensive stock. Embossed in dark red ink was an ornate logo—a stylized crown surrounded by thorns, with Cyrillic letters beneath it. Even though I couldn't read the foreign script, the image radiated menace.

Below the logo, written in elegant cursive that somehow made the words even more terrifying, was a simple message. First, a single line in Russian, followed by the clear, sharp English beneath it: *Долг оплачивается кровью. The debt is paid in blood, kiddo.*

Terror hit me like a physical blow. My robe slipped from nerveless fingers as I stumbled backward, a scream tearing from my throat before I could stop it.

Within seconds, Vivian burst through my bedroom door, her face already pale with worry. "Aveline! What happened?"

I couldn't form words. I just pointed at the bed with a shaking hand.

Vivian's expression shifted from concern to horror as she took in the scene. The bloodstained rose, the threatening card, the implications of someone having been in my most private space.

"Lock the door," I whispered, clutching my robe closed with trembling fingers.

She immediately turned the deadbolt and engaged the security chain. "Where did this come from?"

"I don't know," I managed, my voice barely audible. "I was only gone for an hour. The room was empty when I went to bathe, I'm sure of it."

Vivian began examining the space with systematic precision, checking the windows, the closet, looking for any sign of forced entry. "The windows are still locked from the inside. No scratches on the sills, no disturbance in the carpet... whoever did this didn't come through here."

She moved to the bedroom door, examining the lock mechanism. "No signs of tampering here either. This is impossible—the security system should have detected any intrusion."

The impossibility of it made everything worse. Our house was supposed to be impenetrable now, monitored by systems that could detect a moth landing on a window. Yet someone had walked into my bedroom, left their calling card, and vanished without a trace.

"We need to tell Orion," I said, reaching for my phone with still-shaking hands. "He might recognize this symbol."

"I'll go check on Grandmother," Vivian said, her voice tight with barely controlled panic. "Make sure she's safe, help her get settled for the night."

Within thirty minutes, Orion arrived with two of his security specialists in tow. His face was grim as he examined the card under a magnifying glass, running his fingers over the raised logo.

"This emblem..." he muttered, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I've seen it before. Victor mentioned it once—some European organization called the Crimson Brotherhood. He didn't go into detail, but the way he spoke about them..." Orion shook his head. "Victor Kozlov doesn't fear many people, but when he mentioned this group, there was genuine respect in his voice. Maybe even fear."

"But why would a European crime syndicate target us?" I asked. "We've never had any dealings with them."

Vivian's face had gone ashen. "This has to be about what I did. If this organization appears now, right after Dwayne's death..."

"My uncle," Orion said quietly. "I always knew Devan had connections in Europe, but I never understood the extent of them. If he's called in favors from the Crimson Brotherhood..."

The implications were staggering. We weren't just dealing with local criminals anymore—we were up against an international organization with resources and capabilities we couldn't begin to fathom.

"We can't stay here," Vivian said, already moving toward the door. "I need to wake Grandmother, get her ready to leave—"

"Wait." I held up a hand, my mind racing. Something didn't add up.

I'd been replaying the day's events obsessively, looking for the moment when an intruder could have accessed my room. But the more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that no outsider could have accomplished this impossible infiltration.

"Think about it logically," I said slowly. "Even the most skilled operative couldn't bypass our security systems completely. And whoever did this knew exactly which room was mine, exactly where to place the rose for maximum psychological impact."

Orion and Vivian stared at me, waiting for my conclusion.

"During dinner tonight, I could see all the staff moving around the house. Maria was serving us, James was tending the garden visible from the dining room windows, Rebecca was cleaning the front hall..." I paused, the realization crystallizing. "But there was one person I didn't see all evening. Someone who has complete access to every room in this house."

Understanding dawned in their eyes.

"You think..." Orion began.

"The person who left this calling card," I said with growing certainty, "is someone who's been living under our roof. Someone we trusted completely."