The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 57

Aveline

By the time I was discharged from the hospital, I'd carefully orchestrated my cover story. To maintain the illusion that I'd been traveling instead of nearly dying in a car accident, I'd spent the morning shopping for an assortment of tourist gifts—the kind of random souvenirs that would convince Grandmother I'd actually been somewhere exotic instead of hooked up to IV drips.

The taxi dropped me off at the townhouse with arms full of shopping bags from various boutiques, all carefully chosen to support my fictional getaway narrative. I juggled the packages while fumbling for my keys, putting on my best "exhausted but happy traveler" performance.

"Grandmother, I'm back!" I called out as I struggled through the front door, loaded down with my props.

I found her in the dining room, delicately picking at her lunch, and her face immediately lit up with genuine joy when she saw me.

"Oh, darling!" she exclaimed, immediately rising to help me with the bags. "You look wonderful! Come, come, sit down and eat something. You must be exhausted from traveling."

But what stopped me cold was the sight of Richard and Monica at the table, both of them practically leaping to their feet the moment I appeared.

"Aveline!" Monica gushed, rushing toward me with arms outstretched. "Let me help you with those bags! You look absolutely radiant! Travel clearly agrees with you!"

Richard was right behind her, reaching for packages with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. "Here, let me get you some water! You must be dehydrated from the flight! Sit, sit, relax!"

I stared at them both with undisguised suspicion. The same people who'd been treating me like an unwelcome burden just days ago were now falling over themselves to be helpful. Their sudden transformation from hostile to obsequious could only mean one thing—they wanted something.

"Thank you," I said coolly, setting down my bags and taking a seat. "Where's Vivian? I brought her a little something too, if she doesn't mind."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you!" Monica practically sang, clasping her hands together. "Vivian will be so touched! She's been saying just the other day how much she's missed having you around. You two are such good sisters!"

The blatant lie made my skin crawl, but I maintained my polite smile. "How lovely. And what's she been up to while I was away?"

Monica's eyes immediately took on that gleeful shine that appeared whenever she had gossip to share. "Oh, the most wonderful news! She's been seeing someone from the Blackwell family! Can you believe it? Our Vivian, dating into one of Manhattan's most prominent dynasties!"

My blood went cold. The shopping bags in my hands suddenly felt like they weighed a thousand pounds as my mind immediately jumped to the worst possible scenario.

Ryan's innocent words from days ago echoed in my head: "My daddy has something happy to do today too! He got all dressed up this morning and said he was going to meet someone very important!"

Oh God. What if Orion had been meeting Vivian? What if all his visits to the hospital, all his concern for my welfare, had been part of some elaborate courtship ritual designed to impress my stepsister?

The thought made me physically nauseous.

Richard's voice cut through my spiraling panic. "Not your student's father, of course—we know Mr. Orion is far too serious and focused for someone like our Vivian. No, this is his cousin Dwayne! Also very wealthy, very capable, and completely devoted to her!"

The relief that flooded through me was so intense I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Dwayne. Of course it was Dwayne.

But then Richard said "devoted" and I couldn't hold back anymore. A snort of laughter escaped, then another, until I was practically giggling at the table.

"Devoted?" I managed to get out between chuckles. "Dwayne Blackwell? That's... that's wonderful."

Monica looked at me with confusion and slight offense. "Well, yes, he's been very attentive to Vivian. Taking her to the finest restaurants, buying her gifts, treating her like a queen."

I had to press my napkin to my mouth to contain my amusement. The mental image of Vivian—gold-digging, social-climbing Vivian—paired with Dwayne—womanizing, using-his-family-name-to-get-laid Dwayne—was so perfectly matched it was almost poetic. They deserved each other completely.

"You're absolutely right," I said, forcing my expression back to something resembling sincerity. "They sound like a perfect match. I'm sure they'll be very... educational for each other."

Richard beamed at what he took to be my enthusiasm. "I knew you'd understand! And since you're so close with the family now, perhaps you could put in a good word? Help things along? I'm sure your influence would be invaluable."

The idea of "helping along" a relationship between those two toxic individuals was too delicious to pass up. "Of course," I said sweetly. "I'll do everything I can to encourage their... connection."

Monica clapped her hands together with delight. "I just knew you'd come around! All those silly disagreements we had before—water under the bridge now that we're practically family!"

I was about to respond when my phone rang. The caller ID made both Richard and Monica's eyes light up with unmistakable avarice: Orion Blackwell.

"Excuse me," I said, already rising from the table. "I should take this privately."

I walked quickly to the garden, closing the door behind me before answering.

"Hello, Orion."

"Aveline," his voice was warm but carried an undertone I couldn't quite read. "I heard you were discharged today. How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you. I'm sorry I didn't call to let you know—I was anxious to get home." I paused, thinking about everything Luna had told me about Melody. "Actually, there are some things I wanted to say to you..."

There was silence on the other end for several seconds, long enough that I wondered if the call had dropped.

"I see," Orion said finally, his voice carrying a strange weight. "Well, as it happens, I also have some things I need to discuss with you."

Something in his tone made my stomach flutter with anxiety. The way he emphasized "need" suggested this wasn't going to be a casual conversation.

"Would you be available for dinner tonight?" he continued. "I could have Mitchell prepare something special. I think it's time we had a proper conversation."

I hesitated, feeling a flutter of nervousness about what he wanted to "discuss." But despite my anxiety, I couldn't forget how much he'd helped me—covering my medical expenses, arranging the best care, even staying at the hospital.

I owed him a proper thank you, regardless of how intimidating this conversation might be.

"That sounds lovely," I said. "What time?"

"Seven o'clock. I'll send a car for you."