The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 257

Orion

I don't know how long I've been bound to this chair. Time has become meaningless in this suffocating warehouse, measured only by the throbbing waves of pain radiating from my chest wounds. The metallic taste of blood lingers in my mouth, a bitter reminder of how completely my world has shattered.

Sera continues circling me like a predator savoring her kill, her voice dripping with venomous satisfaction as she delivers each carefully crafted humiliation. She occasionally runs her fingers along my wounds, pressing just hard enough to send fresh waves of agony through my body. The physical torment is relentless, but I keep my eyes sealed shut, my jaw clenched, silently repeating the same desperate prayer: *Please, Aveline, don't come. Don't walk into this trap.*

Yet even as I pray, fragments of memory pierce through the fog of physical agony. Charles's urgency when he ordered my death—he'd been focused, clinical, treating this like a business transaction. But Sera? There's something deeply personal in her cruelty, something that goes far beyond following daddy's orders. The way she deliberately targets my most painful wounds, the satisfaction I can hear in her breathing when I can't suppress a groan—this feels like revenge.

A chilling realization creeps through my mind. How many people are really involved in this operation? Is this warehouse crawling with Charles's men and the Pakhan's soldiers, or has Sera taken matters into her own twisted hands? The distinction could mean the difference between facing a coordinated syndicate hit and dealing with one woman's reckless vendetta. And if it's the latter...

I can't afford to just sit here waiting for death like some sacrificial lamb. Information is survival, and right now, I have none. I need to find out what I'm really up against.

I need to take control of this conversation.

My eyes snap open.

The sudden movement catches Sera mid-sentence, her mocking laughter dying in her throat. For the first time since my capture, I look directly at her—not with the fury or desperation she's grown accustomed to, but with something far more unsettling. I stare at her the way I've learned to face life itself: unflinching, unafraid, accepting whatever comes next.

"Well, well," Sera purrs, though I catch something flickering behind her eyes—surprise, maybe even uncertainty. "What's this look? Finally ready to beg for mercy? Or do you have some final words you want to share with me?"

I let a ghost of a smile touch my bloodied lips. "Sera," I say quietly, my voice hoarse but steady, "you used to be better than this. I never imagined you'd become the person standing in front of me now."

Her mouth opens, ready to deliver another cutting retort, but I don't give her the chance.

"I know you hate me. I know you blame me for everything that's happened, for all the tragedy we're living through now. And I know there's no going back from this moment." I pause, letting the weight of my words fill the space between us. "We're past the point of redemption."

Sera's expression shifts, and suddenly she drops into a crouch in front of me, her face transforming into a mask of theatrical innocence. Her eyes widen with mock pity. "Oh, my poor, broken Orion! Please don't tell me you're actually trying to use some kind of redemption strategy on me right now. That naive little girl you once knew? She's been dead. I buried her myself."

My smile deepens, and for a moment, I almost feel like myself again. "Look, we're both going to die here anyway. My injuries are too severe, and I'm trapped in whatever elaborate trap your father and Pakhan have built around this place. I'm not deluding myself about walking out of here alive." I meet her gaze directly. "I just wanted to have one real conversation with you before it all ends. Just talk to each other, like we used to."

The admission hangs between us like a challenge. Sera rises slowly and begins pacing behind my chair with predatory grace. "You know, I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be so... philosophical about your impending death. It's almost disappointing, really."

Her fingers suddenly trail across the wounded flesh of my chest, and I can't suppress the agonized scream that tears from my throat. White-hot pain explodes through my entire body, leaving me gasping and seeing stars.

"Oops, sorry about that," Sera giggles, her voice as light as if she's commenting on the weather. "I'm just so fascinated by this newfound peace you seem to have found. Tell me, do you remember the last time we had a real conversation? Just the two of us, heart to heart?" Her voice drops, becoming almost vulnerable. "I used to fantasize about moments like this—you and me, finally talking without all the pretense and games. Of course, I imagined very different circumstances. But then again, all your time was always devoted to *her*, wasn't it?"

I shake my head slowly, trying to look resigned. "I just hope this stays between us. I'd rather not have your father listening in on what might be our last private moment."

Sera's laughter rings out, sharp and delighted. "Oh, don't worry about daddy's surveillance network. This particular recording has a very exclusive audience—your precious wife will be the only one getting to enjoy this little home movie." She gestures dramatically at the empty air around us. "No hidden cameras, no audio monitoring, no daddy or his Pakhan friend lurking in the shadows with their army of thugs. This entire game is my personal creation. My artistic masterpiece, if you will."

Relief floods through me like ice water. Not the Pakhan. Not Charles's coordinated network of killers. Just Sera and whatever twisted obsession has been eating at her all these months. The odds have just shifted dramatically—not just for me, but more importantly, for Aveline.