The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 66

Orion

I was barely halfway to my car when I heard footsteps hurrying behind me. Grandfather's voice called out with obvious urgency.

"Orion! Wait up, my boy. Mind if I catch a ride with you?"

I paused, my hand on the driver's door handle. "What happened to your car?"

"Oh, that old thing?" Grandfather waved dismissively. "I'll have someone come collect it later. Right now, I need to talk to you about something rather pressing."

Every instinct I had screamed danger. The last thing I needed was Grandfather's meddling advice about my personal life.

"Look," I said firmly, "I don't care what you and Ms. Reeves discussed in there, but let's establish some ground rules. If you're planning to lecture me about her, you can find your own way home."

Grandfather's eyes twinkled with mischief as he practically bounced on his toes. "Oh, my dear boy, you're going to want to hear this. I've just learned something absolutely fascinating."

Before I could protest further, he'd already climbed into the passenger seat with the agility of a man half his age.

"Trust me," he said, buckling his seatbelt with obvious satisfaction, "this changes everything."

I started the engine with more force than necessary, pulling out of the academy parking lot while fighting the growing sense that I was about to regret this conversation.

"Alright," Grandfather announced the moment we hit the main road, his voice dripping with barely contained glee, "brace yourself for this bombshell—your little teacher is married."

The steering wheel jerked slightly in my hands before I regained control. Married? That was impossible. Everything about her behavior, her reactions, the way she'd responded to my proximity—none of it suggested a woman with a husband waiting at home.

"Is that so?" I managed to say, keeping my voice carefully neutral. "Can't say I'm surprised. Though she certainly doesn't act like a woman who has a husband to answer to."

Grandfather's eyebrows shot up with obvious delight. "Now what exactly do you mean by that? Has she been... inappropriate with you somehow?" He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Because from what I overheard of your little tête-à-tête back there, it sounded like you two have quite the complicated history."

"She's the one who's been inappropriate," I said curtly, though even as the words left my mouth, I wondered why I was defending myself. "If anyone's been crossing lines here, it's her."

"Well, that's interesting," Grandfather mused, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "Because she seemed quite adamant that you two don't get along at all. Said you were completely incompatible, if I recall correctly."

Something hot and ugly twisted in my chest. Incompatible? After everything that had happened between us—the intensity, the chemistry, the way her body had responded to mine—she was telling people we were incompatible?

"Did she now?" I said through gritted teeth. "How thoughtful of her to share such intimate observations with a relative stranger."

The audacity of it was staggering. Here I'd been replaying every moment of our encounters, analyzing every look and gesture, and she was casually dismissing me to my own grandfather like I was some annoying inconvenience she'd rather forget.

We were definitely going to have another conversation about boundaries. Soon.

By the time I pulled up to Grandfather's townhouse, my mood had darkened considerably. But just as he was getting out of the car, he turned back with one final revelation that stopped me cold.

"Oh, and Orion?" he said with obvious satisfaction. "You might want to reconsider how you handle this situation. Your Ms. Reeves apparently has connections to Laurent—you know, the European jewelry designer? I'm hoping she might introduce me to some of his work."

Laurent. The name hit me like a physical blow.

I'd spent months trying to commission a piece from Laurent's atelier for a major client, only to be told that the designer was completely booked and not taking new commissions. The waiting list was reportedly years long, and even my family's considerable influence hadn't been enough to secure so much as a consultation.

And Aveline knew him personally?

"Grandfather," I called out as he started up his front steps, "exactly what kind of connection does she have to Laurent?"

"Close friends, apparently," he replied cheerfully. "Quite impressive for someone so young, don't you think?"

As he disappeared into his house, I sat in my car staring at the steering wheel, my mind racing. Everything I thought I knew about Aveline Reeves was apparently just the tip of a very deep iceberg. A woman with connections to Europe's most exclusive jewelry designer, with enough wealth to give away million-dollar rings as casual gifts, with a background so carefully scrubbed that my best investigators couldn't penetrate it.

And allegedly married to someone I'd never seen or heard mentioned.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Marcus immediately.

"Sir?" he answered on the first ring.

"The investigation into Ms. Reeves—you're absolutely certain there's no record of a marriage?"

There was a pause, the sound of papers shuffling. "Positive, sir. No marriage license, no wedding announcements, no spouse listed on any documents we could access. Unless she's using a completely different identity, she's definitely single."

Relief flooded through me so suddenly it was almost disorienting. Not married. Whatever game she was playing with that information, she was lying about having a husband.

But why?

"Sir?" Marcus continued, clearly sensing my preoccupation. "There's something else. The CEO of Morrison Holdings called about tonight—apparently there's an informal gathering at that new private club downtown. He seemed quite eager for you to attend. Something about finalizing the details on the shipping contract."

Morrison. Right. The deal I'd been working on for months, the one that would expand our logistics network across the entire Eastern seaboard. Under normal circumstances, I'd jump at the chance to close that kind of business.

And right now, I needed something to distract me from the infuriating puzzle that was Aveline Reeves.

"Fine," I said, already pulling back into traffic. "Tell Morrison I'll be there at seven. And Marcus? Keep digging into Ms. Reeves's background."