Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss (Venus and Aaron) novel Chapter 161

Chapter 161

Chapter 161

VENUS

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I woke to silence.

Not the cold, suffocating kind that had wrapped itself around me in that apartment. Not the silence of horror, of blood-soaked walls and words carved in cruelty. This one was softer. Heavy, yes but steady.

The kind of silence that belonged to Aaron.

My lashes fluttered open, the light dim, the room familiar, the study. My body felt like lead, but I wasn’t alone. The second I shifted, strong arms tightened around me. His scent hit first, dark and grounding, the only tether strong enough to drag me back from the places my mind wanted to wander.

“You’re awake.”

His voice was low, gravel threaded with relief, but also tension. Always tension. Aaron never truly let it go, not even when I was curled against him.

I tilted my head slightly, enough to see his face. He was watching me, of course he was. Storm-dark eyes, jaw taut, like he hadn’t blinked since I drifted off. The faint lamplight cut across him, highlighting every edge of

restraint.

Connor and Colton weren’t in the room anymore. Just him. Just me.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Simple question. Impossible answer.

My throat ached like I’d been swallowing glass. “Tired. Numb. Like I’ve been hollowed out.” My voice was thin, scratchy. “But… calm. Strangely calm.”

His thumb brushed along my jaw, the gesture almost reverent. “Calm’s good. Calm means you’re here with

me.”

I swallowed, guilt creeping in at the edges of the calm. “Aaron…”

He stilled, sensing the weight in my tone,

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His voice sharpened. Not angry-curious, dangerous, like he already knew but wanted to hear me say it.

“For not listening to Colton. For not telling you.” The words tumbled out with each shallow breath. “But-“1 drew in a ragged inhale, forcing the truth out before he could cut me off. “I’m not sorry for going. Because I had to. I needed to see her. I needed… closure.”

His jaw flexed, that storm in his eyes tightening. “Closure doesn’t mean walking straight into hell, princess. It

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doesn’t mean painting your hands in blood you’ll never wash off.”

“I know.” My voice broke, but I pushed on, desperate for him to understand. “I know what it did to me. But Aaron, it wasn’t the guards’ fault. It wasn’t Colton’s fault. It was mine. I made the choice. I walked into that building. I didn’t give anyone a chance to stop me.”

His silence was sharp, dangerous. His fingers dug a fraction deeper into my hip, his control wound tight as

wire.

“You don’t get to take the blame for their failures.”

“It wasn’t their failure,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I went because I couldn’t… because I couldn’t live with the questions anymore. I thought if I saw her, if I saw the truth with my own eyes, maybe I’d stop wondering. Maybe I’d finally put the ghosts to rest.”

“And did it work?” His voice was harsh, tearing. “Did it put the ghosts to rest, or did it just give them more teeth?”

The image hit me again. The wall. The words. Her body slumped, unrecognizable except for the features I knew too well.

I flinched.

Aaron cursed under his breath, his hand sliding up into my hair, gripping tight like he could anchor me back to him. “That’s what I thought.”

Tears prickled at my eyes, hot and unwanted. “I don’t know how to feel, Aaron. That’s the truth. She was-” My voice cracked. “She was the only mother I ever had. The woman who raised me. And yet she sold me out. She drugged me. She handed me over to people who wanted me destroyed. How do I reconcile that? How do I grieve someone who ruined me?”

He tilted my chin up, forcing my tear-filled eyes to meet his. His own gaze was unrelenting, fierce. “You don’t reconcile it. You don’t dress it up, soften it, pretend it’s something it’s not. You call it what it is.”

“She was still my mom,” I whispered, voice trembling.

“No.” His tone was a blade, cutting the word in half. “She gave up that title the day she chose money over your life. Blood doesn’t sanctify betrayal, princess-she wasn’t even your blood to begin with-choice does. And hers was to sell you like property. To poison you with lies and drugs until you couldn’t fight back.”

I shook my head, but it was weak, unconvincing even to me. “And yet, there were moments. Times she held me, kissed my forehead, told me stories when I was small. I can’t erase that.”

His expression softened, but the steel in his voice remained. “You don’t have to erase it. But don’t mistake scraps of affection for love. A wolf can lick a lamb’s ear before it devours it, that doesn’t mean it ever stopped being a predator.”

The words sank into me, sharp and merciless. My chest tightened, but deep down I knew he was right. The memories I clung to, the fragments of warmth, they were shards of glass. Holding onto them only cut me deeper.

I let out a shaky breath. “So what do I do with this? With her?”

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Aaron’s hand slipped to the back of my neck, pulling me against his chest. His voice rumbled through me, low and steady. “You bury her. Not in the ground-she already has that. You bury her in your heart. Put her where she can’t reach you anymore. And every time the memory tries to crawl back, you remind yourself: she is not your mother. Not anymore. She forfeited that right. You are not her legacy. You are mine.”

The words broke me open. Tears slid hot and heavy down my cheeks, soaking into his shirt.

“I want to believe that,” I whispered. “I do. But what if I can’t let go?”

“Then I’ll help you.” His lips brushed my temple, fierce and tender all at once. “Piece by piece. Night after night. Until she’s nothing but ash in your memory.”

I trembled, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in a collapsing world.

Maybe he was.

Minutes bled by. My sobs softened to shallow breaths, my body exhausted again, but my mind too sharp to fall under. I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.

“There’s something I still don’t understand.” My voice was fragile but searching. “Why would she do it that way? Why… leave a message like that?”

His gaze flickered. For a fraction of a second, something hard and dangerous passed through his eyes. Then it was gone, hidden beneath the mask he wore so well.

“To hurt you,” he said finally, voice flat. “One last poison. One last strike.”

It made sense. It fit. And yet-something in his tone nagged at me, a quiet wrongness I couldn’t name. But I was too tired to dig. Too drained to pry open another wound.

Instead, I pressed my face into his chest again, whispering, “Then I’ll bury that too.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand smoothing over my hair.

And for the first time since stepping into that apartment, I wasn’t drowning.

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