The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 90

Aveline

The commotion outside was getting louder—crashing sounds, raised voices, and what sounded like furniture being overturned. For the first time since I'd woken up in this nightmare, I felt a spark of hope ignite in my chest.

Someone was here. I didn't know why, but a foolish, desperate part of me believed someone had actually come to save me.

I opened my mouth to scream for help again, but Dwayne was on me in an instant, his hand clamping over my mouth with bruising force while his other hand pressed something soft—a cloth napkin—between my lips and teeth.

"Make one fucking sound," he hissed in my ear, his breath hot and whiskey-soaked, "and I'll make sure you suffer before that camera stops rolling. You understand me?"

I nodded frantically, my eyes wide with what I hoped looked like terror, but inside fury was burning hotter than fear. The voices outside were getting closer, more distinct. I'd be damned if I was going down without a fight.

"Dwayne!" The voice that rang out was deep, magnetic, and unmistakably familiar. "I know you're in here somewhere! Come out and face me like a man instead of hiding like the coward you are!"

Orion. My heart nearly stopped with relief and desperate hope.

Another voice—older, more deferential—responded immediately. "Master Orion, please! Our young master isn't home this evening. He went out with friends—you know how he is about his social life..."

That had to be Dwayne's butler or house manager, someone trying to protect his employer.

Dwayne's face had gone white with panic. He released my mouth and crept toward the door, pressing his back against it and gripping the handle like his life depended on it. Through the thin wood, I could hear Orion's footsteps getting closer, and Dwayne was shaking so hard I could see it from across the room.

This was my chance. I threw myself against my restraints with renewed fury, ignoring the way the ropes cut deeper into my already raw wrists. The pain in my head was getting worse—whatever drug they'd given me was still affecting my system—but I had to try. I had to let Orion know I was here.

"Stop lying to me, Harrison," Orion's voice cut through the air like a blade. "I have proof that your precious young master has been orchestrating a media campaign against me for the past week. He's been feeding stories to gossip bloggers, paying photographers to stalk my family, and generally making my life hell. So either he comes out here and explains himself, or I tear this house apart until I find him."

My blood ran cold. I'd been dragged into some kind of family power struggle without even knowing it. The media attention, the unflattering photos, the timing of it all—it had been Dwayne manipulating the situation from the beginning.

The realization made me want to tear his throat out with my bare hands.

Dwayne was practically hyperventilating now, his eyes darting around the room like a trapped animal looking for an escape route.

"Sir, I assure you, Master Dwayne left hours ago," the butler continued smoothly. "He's probably at one of those clubs downtown—you know how young men are. He'll likely stay out all night and come home tomorrow afternoon with a hangover and no memory of where he's been."

*No,* I thought desperately. *Don't believe him. Please don't believe him.*

"Then explain the woman's voice I heard coming from this direction," Orion said, and I could hear the suspicion in his tone. "Unless your young master has taken up ventriloquism, someone female is in this house right now."

Hope flared in my chest so intensely it made me dizzy.

The butler chuckled nervously. "Oh, that! Yes, well, there is a young lady here, but she's... she's one of Master Dwayne's overnight guests from yesterday. She woke up this morning rather upset about being, shall we say, misled about the nature of their relationship. You know how Master Dwayne can be with his promises to women."

My heart sank like a stone. The explanation was so plausible, so perfectly crafted to deflect suspicion without raising more questions.

"She's been causing quite a scene," Harrison continued, "demanding money, threatening to call the press. Rather embarrassing, really. If you'd like, I could have her come out and speak with you directly? Though I warn you, she's quite hysterical."

This was it. This was my moment. If Orion agreed to see the "hysterical woman," I could—

"God, no," Orion said with obvious distaste, and my world crumbled. "I'm not here to mediate your boss's sexual drama. I just came to deliver a message."

*No, no, no!* I wanted to scream. *I'm here! I'm right here! Please don't leave me!*

But I could only sit there, bound and gagged, watching my one chance at rescue slip away.

"Tell Dwayne that I know exactly what he's been up to," Orion continued, his voice turning cold and deadly. "The media manipulation, the corporate sabotage, all of it. And when I'm done with him, he'll wish he'd never heard my name. That's not a threat—it's a promise."

"I'll... I'll be sure to pass along your message, sir," Harrison replied weakly.

"See that you do."

The sound of Orion's footsteps retreated down the hallway, growing fainter with each step until I couldn't hear them anymore. A door slammed somewhere in the distance, followed by the sound of a car engine starting.

He was gone.

The last thread of hope I'd been clinging to snapped, and I felt something break inside my chest. I closed my eyes and let my head fall forward, unable to fight anymore. The combination of the drugs, the physical strain, and the emotional devastation was too much.

I was truly alone.

"Well, well," Dwayne's voice was bright with renewed confidence as he moved away from the door. "Looks like my dear cousin just missed the performance of a lifetime."

He walked over to me with a swagger that hadn't been there minutes before, all traces of his earlier panic gone. With theatrical flourish, he pulled the makeshift gag from my mouth.

"Too bad Orion doesn't have the stomach for real entertainment," he continued, loosening his robe again. "He could have watched me teach his little teacher some very educational lessons."

I couldn't even summon the energy to curse at him anymore. The brief flare of hope had burned out completely, leaving me hollow and defeated. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to see his triumphant expression or acknowledge what was about to happen.

"Come now, don't be shy," Dwayne said, his hands moving to the neckline of my sweater. "The camera's still rolling, and we have so much work to do..."

His fingers had just begun to pull at my clothing when his elbow knocked into something on the nearby nightstand. I heard a crash, followed by the distinctive sound of shattering glass as what must have been a decorative lamp hit the floor.

The noise was sharp and sudden in the quiet room—sharp enough to carry through thin walls and closed doors.

Sharp enough, perhaps, to be heard by someone who hadn't actually left the building yet.

Dwayne froze, his hands still tangled in my sweater, as we both held our breath and listened.

Footsteps. Rapid, purposeful footsteps coming back down the hallway.

And they were getting closer.