Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss (Venus and Aaron) novel Chapter 164

Chapter 164

VENUS

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Rosemary’s hands trembled in mine. For a moment, the world was just her and me-Caroline’s poison still ringing in my ears, the weight of that secret pressing hot against my chest.

Her lips parted, and her whisper scraped out like a blade dragged against stone.

“Not a word, Venus. Not now. Not here.”

Her grip tightened, surprisingly strong. “This is not the time, nor the place. The boardroom will be blood enough without spilling this secret too.”

I wanted to argue. To spit fire. To tell her Aaron deserved the truth, deserved to know exactly what Caroline had stolen from him. But Rosemary’s eyes-dark, fierce, tired from carrying too many ghosts-stopped me.

Not now.

And she was right.

Because when we stepped into that boardroom, another kind of war was waiting.

The room stretched wide, gleaming and merciless, a cathedral built for power. The long glass table glittered beneath the overhead lights, lined with men and women whose eyes sharpened the moment Aaron strode in. They smelled the shift in the air, the storm he carried in his shoulders, the inevitability of it.

And me? I walked at his side.

Not one step behind.

The murmurs started instantly. Whispers sliding along the walls, a ripple of shock, disapproval, curiosity. Connor moved like a shadow at Aaron’s back, a file tucked under his arm, his jaw locked into that quiet restraint that meant he was about to detonate in the only way Connor knew how-with evidence sharp enough to gut reputations.

Rosemary was already in the room, arms crossed, leaning against the wall near the window, the morning light outlining her frame. The way he stood there, the way she fixed every Sinclair at the table with that cold Carter stare, told the truth: she was watching. Judging. Protecting.

Caroline’s voice snapped through the murmurs the second she laid eyes on me.

“This is highly inappropriate,” she said, her tone laced with sweet venom, the kind she wielded like perfume. Her smile was sharp enough to cut glass. “She doesn’t belong here. This is a closed meeting for stakeholders. She is neither.”

A hush rippled through the table. Twenty sets of eyes, waiting.

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Chapter 164

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I felt Aaron’s hand slide into mine under the table, firm, grounding, possessive. He didn’t hesitate. His voice rang out, low and commanding, every syllable a blow.

“She belongs wherever I say she does.”

The words cracked across the room, and my spine straightened.

Caroline’s face froze, her mask cracking just enough for the fury to show. “Aaron, this is business-”

“This is my wife.” His eyes cut through her like steel through silk. “And she will be here. At my side. As she always will be.”

The silence that followed wasn’t silence at all. It was pressure. Heat. Everyone in that room felt it, the inevitability of him.

And then, of course, Dorian leaned forward, his smirk oily, his voice dripping with false calm. “On what authority?”

Aaron turned his head slowly, eyes locking onto him.

The storm in him flickered, dangerous and bright. “Sit,” he said, his voice lethal in its quietness. “And you’ll find out.”

The air shifted. The weight of inevitability grew heavier. Even the men and women who had once bowed to Dorian seemed to falter, their eyes darting between the two of them.

Connor chose that moment to move. He stepped forward, laying his folder onto the table with a deliberate thud. Every head turned as he opened it, pulling out thick stacks of documents, glossy photos, printed ledgers, copies of emails.

And then the first bomb dropped.

“Caroline Sinclair. Dorian Sinclair. Richard Sinclair.” His voice was calm, clipped, surgical. “Over the last five years, the three of you have engaged in systematic mismanagement of Sinclair assets. Hidden accounts. Ghost subsidiaries. Shell corporations bleeding money into private accounts. If released to the public, these records would not only collapse the company’s market value overnight, but also invite immediate investigation by federal authorities.”

The room gasped, a dozen hands tightening on pens, phones, and glasses of water.

Caroline’s composure cracked instantly. “That’s a lie. Fabricated.”

Dorian’s voice snapped on top of hers, louder, harsher. “Do you think anyone here is foolish enough to believe you? This is a setup. A smear. He’s desperate, and you’re all blind if you can’t see it.”

But Richard.

Richard was silent.

He sat at the far end of the table, shoulders slouched, his hands folded in front of him. And while his wife and son lashed out, Richard’s eyes weren’t on Aaron. Or Connor. Or even the documents.

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Chapter 164

They were on Rosemary.

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His gaze slipped to her again and again, quick, sharp glances that he tried to hide. As if the storm crashing down around them had nothing to do with him. As if he’d long since checked out of the war his family was

waging.

And Rosemary…she didn’t even flinch. Didn’t grant him so much as a flicker of acknowledgment. Her spine was straight, her hands folded in her lap. Queenly. Untouchable.

Aaron leaned forward, his presence filling the room, consuming it. His hand tightened around mine beneath the table. “You want to call this fake? Then explain the transfers from Sinclair accounts to a Cayman shell corporation owned by one ‘Douglas Hale’-a name that just so happens to be Caroline’s maiden uncle. Explain the missing millions in quarterly reports. Explain the kickbacks to contractors that don’t exist.”

Caroline’s face blanched. Dorian slammed his fist against the table, trying to reclaim control, but the sound only echoed into silence.

–

Connor slid another photo forward. A screenshot of emails. Caroline’s name on the thread. Dorian’s too. Numbers. Accounts. Transactions. The noose tightening.

“This,” Connor said, calm as ever, “is not fake. And every single member of this board will soon see the originals. Audit trails. Server logs. Copies already secured with our attorneys.”

The tension crackled. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.

Dorian barked a laugh, too loud, too sharp. “He thinks he can scare us with paper.”

Aaron’s lips curved into something that wasn’t a smile. “Not scare, Brother. Bury.”

His voice was cold, absolute. “You’ve bled this company dry for years. Used it like your personal kingdom. That ends today. Because Sinclair is mine now.”

The words were thunder.

And all I could do was sit there, hand locked in his, pulse roaring as the room spun with fury, denial, and the shattering of everything the Sinclairs thought they controlled.

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