The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 52

Orion

The surgery had been going on for three hours.

Three fucking hours of pacing this sterile corridor like a caged animal, my hands shaking every time a doctor emerged from the surgical wing only to disappear into another room. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped steel bands around my ribs and was slowly tightening them with each passing minute.

This was insane. I was completely losing my shit, and I couldn't understand why.

Yes, Aveline was important to Ryan—she was the first teacher who'd ever truly connected with him, who'd made him smile and laugh and want to attend school. And yes, we'd shared meals together, had conversations that went beyond the strictly professional. She'd challenged me about my parenting, stood up to my grandfather, fit seamlessly into our family dynamic in ways that had surprised us all.

But this terror clawing at my insides? This desperate, overwhelming fear that felt like my world was ending? This was something else entirely.

I felt like I was losing someone I couldn't afford to lose. Like Ryan losing his mother all over again, except this time it was me facing that devastating emptiness.

What the fuck was wrong with me? But what I despised myself for most was another possibility. What if she wasn't just Ryan's teacher? What if she was the woman from that hotel room—the one who fucked me while I was passed out, and then left a ring as some kind of twisted 'compensation'? 

If that was true, then I was sitting here terrified about losing the woman who'd essentially sexually assaulted me.

The irony was so twisted it made me want to laugh, except I couldn't seem to breathe properly.

The surgery room doors finally burst open with a metallic clang that made me spin around so fast I nearly lost my balance. Dr. Sarah emerged, pulling off her surgical mask, sweat beading on her forehead despite the hospital's aggressive air conditioning.

"Mr. Blackwell," she said, hurrying toward me with obvious relief. "The surgery went perfectly. Ms. Reeves is going to be absolutely fine. We've stopped the internal bleeding, treated the concussion, and her vitals are stable. She's a very lucky woman."

The relief that flooded through me was so intense I had to grab the wall to stay upright. My legs felt like they might give out, and for a moment I couldn't speak around the tightness in my throat.

I watched as they wheeled Aveline out on a gurney, her face still pale as marble, her eyes closed in what looked like peaceful sleep. But she was breathing steadily, and the monitors attached to her were beeping in reassuring rhythms.

She was alive. She was going to be fine.

So why did my chest still feel like someone was crushing it?

My jaw tightened as I took in her unconscious form. "Why isn't she awake yet?"

Dr. Sarah actually took a step back, clearly recognizing the dangerous edge in my voice. "Sir, she's sleeping peacefully now. The anesthesia is still working its way out of her system, but I expect her to regain consciousness within two to three hours."

I nodded curtly, pulling out my wallet and extracting the black credit card I'd originally brought for an entirely different purpose. "Whatever her care costs, charge it to this. Everything—the surgery, the room, medications, whatever she needs."

Dr. Sarah accepted the card with the kind of reverence usually reserved for religious artifacts. "Of course, Mr. Blackwell. Your friend will receive the absolute best care we can provide."

Friend. Right. If only it were that simple.

Within an hour, they'd moved Aveline to a private suite that looked more like a luxury hotel room than a hospital accommodation. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Central Park, the bed was surrounded by state-of-the-art monitoring equipment, and there was even a separate sitting area for visitors.

I stood beside her bed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, fighting every instinct that wanted me to reach out and touch her hand, to reassure myself that she was really okay. She looked so small under the hospital blankets, so vulnerable.

My phone buzzed with a reminder that made my stomach drop. Ryan's school pickup was in thirty minutes. And if I wasn't there on time, I knew exactly what his sharp little mind would conclude: that things with Miss Aveline were far worse than I'd let on.

The last thing I wanted was to add to his fear. 

I pulled out my phone and dialed Marcus's direct line.

"Sir?" he answered on the first ring, as always.

"I need you at Mount Sinai Hospital immediately. Private suite 412 on the VIP floor. How quickly can you get here?"

"Fifteen minutes, sir. Is everything alright?"

"Just get here. Now."

Marcus arrived in exactly fourteen minutes, his usually impeccable appearance slightly disheveled from whatever urgent business he'd abandoned to answer my summons. His eyes immediately went to Aveline's unconscious form, then back to me with poorly concealed confusion.

"Sir, what exactly do you need me to do?"

I gestured toward the bed where Aveline lay sleeping, looking almost ethereal in the afternoon light streaming through the windows. "Her. If she wakes up while I'm gone, I want you to handle whatever she needs. Food, water, entertainment, phone calls—anything."

Marcus blinked at me like I'd just asked him to perform brain surgery. "Sir, wouldn't that be the nursing staff's responsibility? And surely she has family members who—"

"Just take care of her," I cut him off, my voice turning cold enough to freeze hell. "Don't ask questions, don't make assumptions, and don't fucking leave this room until I get back."

I was already heading for the door, but I paused at the threshold to look back one more time. Aveline hadn't moved, hadn't shown any sign of stirring, but something about leaving her felt fundamentally wrong.

Like I was abandoning someone who mattered more than I was ready to admit.

Even if she might be the woman who'd destroyed my sense of control six years ago.

"And Marcus?" I added without turning around. "If anything happens to her while I'm gone, you'll be looking for a new job. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, sir."