The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 91

Orion

Something was wrong.

The sharp crack of breaking glass had cut through the air just as I'd reached the front door, and every instinct I'd honed in years of high-stakes business dealings was screaming at me to turn around.

That sound hadn't been accidental. And the woman's voice I'd heard earlier—it hadn't been hysterical ranting like Harrison claimed. It had been a cry for help, muffled and desperate, the kind of sound someone makes when they're being threatened.

*Fuck the media campaign. Fuck the family politics. Someone's in danger.*

I spun around and ran back toward the house, taking the stairs three at a time while Harrison's panicked voice echoed behind me.

"Sir! Master Orion! Please, there's really no need—"

I ignored him completely, following my instincts toward the room where I'd heard that terrified woman's voice. When I reached the door, I pressed my ear against the wood and heard what made my blood run cold: Dwayne's voice, low and threatening, talking to someone who wasn't responding.

The silence from the other person was more damning than any scream.

I positioned myself directly in front of the door and let my voice carry the full weight of every threat I'd ever made in a boardroom.

"Dwayne!" I bellowed. "I know you're in there! I'm giving you exactly three seconds to open this door and come out, or I'm coming in to get you!"

Harrison appeared at the end of the hallway with two house staff members, all of them looking like they'd rather be anywhere else in the world. Sweat was literally dripping down Harrison's face despite the house's perfect climate control.

"Three!" I started counting, my voice echoing off the walls.

"Two!"

I could hear shuffling and frantic whispers from behind the door.

"One!"

"Fuck!" Dwayne's voice exploded from the other side of the door. "Harrison! Get this bastard out of here! Handle it!"

The butler's entire demeanor changed in an instant. Gone was the polite, deferential house manager—he was suddenly desperate and dangerous.

"Take him!" Harrison hissed at the two staff members. "Do whatever you have to do, but get him away from that door!"

The first man who rushed me was built like a linebacker, but he was also clearly just a house employee who'd never been in a real fight in his life. I sidestepped his clumsy charge and put my fist through his solar plexus with enough force to lift him off his feet. He crumpled to the floor, gasping like a landed fish.

"You have no fucking idea who you're dealing with," I snarled at the remaining staff members, my voice dropping to the kind of register that made grown men reconsider their life choices.

The second man took one look at his colleague writhing on the floor and immediately backed away, his hands raised in surrender.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" he babbled, tears streaming down his face. "I can't—I won't—sir, you're Orion Blackwell! I have a family! I can't fight Orion fucking Blackwell! Please don't hurt me!"

His terror was so complete, so genuine, that even Harrison looked shaken.

"You worthless pieces of shit," Harrison spat at his own staff, but his voice was pitched high with panic now.

I smiled at them—the kind of smile that had made Fortune 500 CEOs wet themselves during hostile takeover negotiations.

"Smart man," I said to the terrified employee, then turned that same predatory expression on Harrison. "Now get the fuck out of my way, or I'll make sure you never work in this city again."

I drew my leg back and drove my foot into the door with enough force to make the entire frame shudder. The wood splintered around the lock, but didn't give completely.

Another kick. The hinges groaned in protest.

A third kick, and the door exploded inward with a sound like a gunshot.

What I saw in that room made my vision go white with rage.

Aveline was bound to a chair in the center of the room, her wrists red and raw from fighting against rope restraints. Her sweater had been pulled askew, her hair was disheveled, and there were tear tracks on her cheeks despite the defiant fire still burning in her eyes.

And there was a fucking camera pointed directly at her.

For a split second, I was so shocked by the scene that I couldn't move. In that moment of hesitation, Dwayne launched himself toward the doorway like a man running for his life.

I reached for him, but he was already past me, grabbing the terrified staff member and shoving him into my path while he and Harrison bolted down the hallway.

"You're dead!" I roared after them, my voice carrying enough venom to poison the air. "You hear me, you sick fuck? You're fucking dead!"

But I let them go. Right now, nothing mattered except the woman tied to that chair.

I rushed to Aveline, my hands shaking as I worked to untie the professional-grade knots that had bound her. Whoever had done this knew what they were doing—the ropes were tight enough to be inescapable but positioned to avoid cutting off circulation entirely.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice rough with emotions I couldn't name. "I'm so fucking sorry I didn't get here sooner. I should have known, I should have—"

The moment the last rope fell away, Aveline's composure finally cracked. She collapsed forward into my arms like a marionette with cut strings, all the strength that had been holding her together suddenly gone.

I caught her against my chest, feeling how small and fragile she seemed compared to the fierce, defiant woman I'd come to know. She was trembling so hard I could feel it through my shirt, and she was making soft, broken sounds that might have been words but were too quiet to understand.

"It's okay," I murmured into her hair, holding her as tightly as I dared. "You're safe now. You're safe, and I'm not going anywhere."

For several minutes, we stayed like that—her shaking in my arms while I whispered reassurances and tried to process my own rage. I'd seen Aveline angry, stubborn, defiant, and professional. But I'd never seen her vulnerable like this, never seen her defenses completely stripped away.

It broke something inside my chest that I didn't know could be broken.

Gradually, her trembling began to subside, and I felt some of the tension leave her body. She lifted her head slightly, though she didn't pull away from my embrace.

"Thank God you came back," she whispered, her voice hoarse but stronger than before. "Thank God you heard that lamp break."

Then her expression hardened, and for a moment I saw a flash of the fierce woman who'd fought off Marcus's parents with her bare hands.

"I'm going to kill him," she said with quiet intensity. "I swear to God, Orion, I'm going to fucking kill Dwayne for this."

I tightened my arms around her, feeling a surge of protective fury that was almost overwhelming.

"No," I said softly, my voice carrying the weight of a promise. "You don't need to dirty your hands with that piece of shit. I'm going to handle this—all of it. And when I'm done with him, he'll wish he'd never been born."

I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, making sure she could see the truth in my expression.

"Right now, all you need to do is rest. Try to put this nightmare out of your mind. I'm taking you home, and you're going to sleep in a safe place where no one can ever hurt you again."