The Billionaire That Found Me

Chapter 6 – London’s Bitter Homecoming

The plane touched down in London with a gentle shudder, but Ava felt no relief. The city sprawled beneath her through the small window of the taxi—familiar yet distant, gray skies pressing down like a warning. The air smelled damp, cold, and sharp, and the streets buzzed with early commuters hurrying to offices and buses.

Ava’s hands were clenched tightly in her lap. Her mind replayed the phone call over and over: her mother collapsed, the bills mounting, and the cold ultimatum from Vivian. She had barely processed it on the flight, staring out the window at clouds and city lights, fighting back panic. Now, inching through London traffic, reality pressed down harder.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she was terrified. Terrified for her mother, terrified for herself, and terrified of what this arrangement—this forced marriage—would mean. Yet she had no choice. Not if she wanted her mother to survive, not if she wanted to protect her.

The taxi pulled up outside a sleek, modern hospital, its glass doors reflecting the gray morning. Ava paid the driver and stepped out, her coat pulled tight against the cold. The hospital smelled antiseptic and despair, yet it was oddly familiar. Memories of her childhood visits, her mother’s appointments, the endless nights of worrying—flooded back.

Inside, the receptionist looked up from her desk. “Can I help you?”

“I—I’m here for my mother, Alice Hart,” Ava said, trying to steady her voice.

The receptionist typed rapidly and nodded. “Yes, she’s in Room 402. She’s awake now, stable, but please be mindful. She’s… fragile.”

Ava’s chest tightened. Fragile. That word didn’t even begin to describe how she felt.

She hurried down the corridor, her heels clicking against the polished floor, heart hammering. When she reached Room 402, she froze. Her mother was propped against the pillows, looking pale but alert, the faintest flicker of a smile forming as Ava entered.

“Ava…” her mother whispered, voice weak but filled with relief. “You’re here…”

“I’m here, Mom,” Ava said, rushing to her side. She grabbed her mother’s hand, feeling the thinness of it, the fragility beneath the skin. “You’re okay. That’s all that matters. I’m here now.”

Her mother’s lips trembled. “I… I didn’t want you to see me like this… but… I couldn’t… manage…”

Ava shook her head. “Don’t say that. You’re sick, not weak. And I’m here. We’ll manage this—together.”

Her mother’s eyes flickered toward the door, where Vivian now appeared, leaning against the frame like a shadow Ava had hoped to avoid. The cold authority in Vivian’s posture made Ava’s stomach twist.

“Ah, Ava,” Vivian said smoothly, her voice sharp as a knife hidden in velvet. “So glad you could make it. I trust your flight was comfortable?”

Ava’s heart sank. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, stepping slightly between Vivian and her mother.

Vivian smiled faintly, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “I’m merely… concerned for your mother. After all, one must ensure she receives the finest care. But of course, that comes with… expectations.”

Ava’s stomach dropped. She knew exactly what those expectations were, and the thought made her feel like she might be sick all over again. “I won’t… allow you to manipulate her. She’s my mother, and she’s the one who decides her care, not you.”

Vivian’s smile didn’t falter. “Ah, but you see, Ava, that’s where you’re mistaken. She cannot afford the care she needs without… cooperation. And cooperation, in this case, is simple. You will do as I say. Accept the arrangement, marry Nathaniel Henley, and everything will be settled. Refuse, and… well, we can’t all be so lucky.”

Ava’s pulse raced. “You can’t force me.”

Vivian’s voice dropped to a whisper, deadly calm. “I’ve already started. The bills, the hospital administration, the treatment schedules… everything is under my control. You want her alive? You will do as I say. It’s really very simple.”

Ava’s hands trembled. She gripped her mother’s arm. “Mom… I—”

Her mother shook her head weakly. “Ava… you must. I can’t… I can’t survive this without… help.”

Tears burned in Ava’s eyes. She wanted to scream, to run, to fight—but the truth was crushing and unavoidable. She had no choice. For her mother’s life, for her own peace of mind, she would have to comply, at least for now.

Vivian’s smile widened. “Excellent. I knew you would understand the gravity of the situation. I will make the arrangements. Nathaniel Henley is… expecting a wife who can meet certain standards. I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion.”

Ava felt her stomach twist in anger and fear. Standards? Expectations? She didn’t even know this man, yet her life—her mother’s life—was now tied to him.

Vivian stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You’ll thank me someday. Perhaps not today, perhaps not tomorrow. But someday, you’ll see that I was… practical.”

Ava’s fists clenched. She hated Vivian for her cruelty, for the manipulations, for the cold calculations. But she also knew she had no option. No leverage. And her mother’s frailty left her powerless.

After Vivian left, Ava sank into the chair beside her mother’s bed, heart hammering, eyes wide with fear and frustration. Her mind raced. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. I can’t… I won’t…

Yet the truth pressed down on her like a lead weight. She would have to navigate this forced marriage, this new life thrust upon her. And somewhere deep inside, a voice whispered: she would survive. Somehow. She always did.

But for now, she could only sit there, holding her mother’s hand, staring at the sterile walls, and wondering how her life had spiraled so far from anything she had imagined.

One night with Ethan Blackwell had set her heart on fire. And now, the cold, bitter reality of London—and Vivian’s ruthless control—was smothering it.

Her life had shifted irrevocably. The choice was no longer hers.