The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 253

Orion

The highway stretched endlessly ahead of me as I pushed the armored Mercedes to its limits. Two hours to the Hudson Valley had never felt so impossibly long. Every mile that passed felt like an eternity while Ryan and Grandmother remained in mortal danger.

My knuckles were white against the steering wheel as I replayed that horrifying phone call over and over. The sound of automatic weapons fire, Ryan's terrified cries, Mitchell's desperate shouts before the line went dead—each memory was a knife twisting in my chest.

Logic told me they were probably still alive. Nikolai's people needed leverage, and dead hostages were worthless in negotiations. But logic offered little comfort when I pictured Ryan's frightened face or imagined what those monsters might do to prove their point.

The estate had a hidden panic room—a reinforced basement bunker that only Mitchell knew about, installed by my paranoid grandfather decades ago during the Cold War. If Mitchell had managed to get them there in time, they might still be safe. But given the intensity of the gunfire I'd heard, that seemed like desperate optimism.

My hand unconsciously moved to the Glock in my shoulder holster. I'd never fired a weapon in anger, never killed another human being. But tonight, I was prepared to put a bullet in anyone who threatened my family.

The highway gave way to winding mountain roads as I entered the Hudson Valley region. These narrow passages between towering peaks were the only route to the estate—a geographic bottleneck that had always provided natural security.

I accelerated into a sharp curve, my urgency overriding caution, when something massive struck the undercarriage with a bone-jarring impact.

The steering wheel went wild in my hands as the car began fish-tailing wildly across the asphalt. I could hear the screech of twisted metal against metal, the violent grinding of a heavy chain being dragged beneath the vehicle. The sound was deafening—like industrial machinery tearing itself apart. Through the windshield, I watched the rocky mountainside rushing toward me at deadly speed.

*They set a trap.*

I yanked the wheel hard to the right while simultaneously pumping the brakes, trying to force the car into a controlled skid rather than a head-on collision. The physics were against me—too much speed, not enough traction, momentum and gravity conspiring to smash me against the granite cliff face.

At the last possible moment, I made a desperate choice. Instead of fighting the skid, I accelerated into it, using the car's momentum to initiate a deliberate rollover. Better to flip than to become a fireball against the mountain.

The world exploded into chaos. Glass shattered in crystalline showers, metal screamed as it twisted and compressed, and my body was thrown against the restraints like a rag doll in a washing machine. The car rolled once, twice, three times before coming to rest on its side mere feet from the rocky wall.

A jagged oak branch had punched through the passenger window, its sharp point stopping less than an inch from my left eye. I could see the rough bark texture, smell the sap bleeding from the fresh break. If I'd been sitting six inches to the right, the branch would have gone straight through my brain.

Blood ran down my face from multiple scalp wounds, and my left arm hung at a grotesque angle—definitely dislocated, possibly fractured. Every breath sent lightning bolts of agony through my torso, suggesting broken or cracked ribs. My vision kept swimming in and out of focus.

I managed to crawl through the shattered windshield, glass fragments embedding in my palms and knees, and collapse onto the cold asphalt. My body felt like it belonged to someone else, refusing to obey even basic commands.

"Oh, Orion."

The voice came from the shadows beyond the wreckage, sing-song and sweetly mocking. A figure stepped into the moonlight, and recognition hit me like a sledgehammer to the gut.

Sera Ashford. Charles Ashford's daughter, the woman whose romantic advances I'd rejected months ago, now wearing an expression that made my blood turn to ice water.

"You're in such a desperate hurry to reach Willowbrook Estate," she purred, approaching with predatory grace. "Racing through the night like some romantic hero. It's almost touching, really."

Her smile was radiant and utterly insane. "Don't worry about little Ryan and that sweet grandmother of Aveline's. They're perfectly safe under Devan's care. After all, I've grown quite fond of that precious boy during our... observations."

I tried to push myself upright, but my muscles had turned to jelly. "Sera... I know you're working with Charles and Devan, but this... this is insane."

Her laugh was sharp and bitter. "Working with them? Darling, I helped plan this entire operation. Though I have to admit, I'm disappointed you survived the crash. I was hoping for a more... permanent solution."

She crouched beside me, her face twisted with an expression I'd never seen before—a mixture of love and hatred that made my blood run cold.

"You made your choice, Orion. You chose that simple little jewelry designer over everything we could have built together. You chose poverty over power, sentiment over strategy." Her voice rose with each word. "So why shouldn't I choose revenge over forgiveness?"

I managed to work enough saliva into my mouth to speak. "You're insane. This isn't about choice—this is about you being a psychotic bitch who can't accept rejection."

The slap across my face sent fresh waves of pain through my skull, but it was worth it to see her composure crack.

"Insane?" she shrieked. "I'm the only one thinking clearly! When I joined this operation, I was prepared to watch you die tonight. I made peace with your death, Orion. But fate seems to have other plans."

She stood up, brushing imaginary dirt from her expensive clothes. "Maybe this is destiny. Maybe the universe wants us to have our final conversation before I decide whether you deserve to live or die."

The sound of engines approaching made me turn my head. Three black SUVs emerged from hidden positions in the forest, their headlights creating harsh shadows across the crash site.

Charles stepped out of the lead vehicle, followed by a dozen armed men in tactical gear. His smile was the expression of a predator who'd finally cornered his prey.

"Orion Blackwell," he said with mock ceremony. "We've been waiting for you. Though I have to admit, we expected you to bring your lovely wife. Don't tell me you left Aveline all alone in that fortress of yours?"

I spat blood onto the asphalt. "Go to hell, Charles."

"Soon enough, my boy. Soon enough." He placed his boot on my face, pressing my cheek against the rough pavement. "You should know that your uncle's assault on the estate is proceeding beautifully. By now, he's probably captured your precious family."

The casual cruelty in his voice made me want to tear his throat out with my bare hands.

"Here's what you failed to understand," Charles continued, increasing the pressure on my skull. "You should know that Devan is Nikolai Volkov's brother-in-law, which makes him part of the most powerful criminal organization in Eastern Europe."

He gestured broadly, as if revealing some grand design. "But what you couldn't have anticipated is my connection with Nikolai. Yes, my European business interests have been intertwined with his operations for years. We've made each other very, very wealthy. So when you decided to make an enemy of the Pakhan, you weren't just fighting one man—you were challenging an entire empire."

The pieces were falling into place with horrible clarity.

"If you'd married my daughter instead of that nobody, none of this would have happened," Charles said with genuine regret. "You could have been part of something magnificent. Instead, you chose to throw away everything for love."

He drew a pistol from his jacket, the metal gleaming in the headlights. "Time to pay the price for your poor judgment."

But before he could pull the trigger, Sera's hand shot out to stop him.

"No, Daddy," she said sweetly. "Don't kill him yet."

Charles looked confused. "Sera, you can't still have feelings for this fool."

"Feelings?" She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "I don't have feelings anymore. But I want his death to be special. I want it to be intimate."

Her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

"I want to be the last face he sees. The last voice he hears. I want his final thoughts to be of me, not that pathetic wife of his." Her smile turned predatory. "I want him to understand that in the end, I won. I was always going to win."

"Sera, this obsession isn't healthy—"

"Healthy?" she interrupted with a shriek. "Nothing about love is healthy! Love is possession, domination, the complete consumption of another soul! And if I can't have his love, I'll settle for his last breath."

Strong hands grabbed me under the arms, dragging me toward one of the SUVs despite my weak struggles. A black hood was pulled over my head, plunging me into claustrophobic darkness.

As they shoved me into what felt like a cargo compartment, I heard Sera's voice one final time.

"Don't worry, darling. We'll have plenty of time to discuss our relationship before I decide how you should die."

The vehicle began moving, carrying me away from any hope of rescue and toward whatever twisted fate she had planned. In the suffocating darkness, my mind conjured images of Aveline waiting helplessly at home, of Ryan crying for parents who might never come back, of Grandmother facing her final hours at the hands of monsters.

I had failed them all.

The only thing left was to pray that somehow, someone would succeed where I had not.