Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss (Venus and Aaron) novel Chapter 179

Chapter 179

VENUS

O:

The weight of Aaron’s words still hung in the air like smoke.

You bleed for it. You prove it.

And then, impossibly, Dorian Sinclair lowered himself into a chair at Rosemary’s table. Not at the head, not in any place of prominence-just the far edge, a shadow among the gold light. It was wrong. Surreal. This man, who had been specter and serpent for as long as I’d known his name, was suddenly flesh and bone, seated beneath the same chandelier where we’d laughed over lemon tart just minutes ago.

Aaron’s hand never left mine, a tether and a warning. His grip was iron, but I knew it wasn’t just fury. It was fear. Fear that letting Dorian close, even for one night, would undo everything he’d bled to build.

The silence stretched until it cracked.

Connor whistled low, leaning back in his chair. “Well, this is awkward.”

Sabine’s glare cut across the table. “Not funny, Connor.”

His grin faltered. He reached for her hand again, but her eyes stayed locked on her brother. On Dorian.

“Why now?” she asked finally, her voice brittle glass. “Why crawl back after years of acting like I didn’t exist? After all those years of a one-sided rivalry with Aaron?”

Dorian didn’t flinch. He looked at her as though he’d rehearsed this moment and still wasn’t ready. “Because I was a coward. Because I thought resentment made me strong, when really it only kept me weak. And because…” His throat tightened, and for once, the smug curve of his lips wavered. “Because I couldn’t stand the thought of dying one day with you never knowing that I loved you.”

Sabine recoiled, tears flashing at the edges of her eyes. Her laugh was sharp, breaking. “Love? You wouldn’t even see me, Dorian. I was just the inconvenient daughter, the reminder of Mom’s failure and Dad’s betrayal. Do you even know how lonely I felt? Rosemary-the woman Dad betrayed for my mother-treated me more like a daughter than she ever did.”

The table went silent.

Connor held her hand, rubbing soft circles against her skin, as she finally let years of pain pour out.

“One would think you, as my eldest brother, would’ve been there for me. But you weren’t. Aaron was just eight. His mother was in a coma.” She swallowed hard.

“But he was there for me. The daughter of the woman who shattered his home.”

Her voice shook, but her eyes burned. “So forgive me if I can’t sit at this table and pretend everything’s fine. I can’t. And I’ll never be as gracious as Rosemary and her son. I guess that makes me Caroline’s true daughter

in the flesh.”

She shoved her chair back and stood. Connor was at her side immediately.

20:46 Wed, Jan 14

Chapter 179

“Sabine,” I called softly as she made her way out. Connor cast Aaron and me an apologetic glance.

“I’m sorry for ruining dinner,” she murmured before slipping out.

Dorian’s head hung low-shame, maybe regret.

I never thought the day would come when I’d pity Dorian Sinclair. But tonight, I did.

“I’m sorry for ruining your celebration.” He stood, voice rough. “I’ll earn your trust. I promise.” His eyes flicked to Aaron. “Thank you for having me, Rose.”

He was about to leave when Rosemary caught his hand.

59

“She’s hurt,” she said softly. “But she’ll come around. Just show her how sorry you are.” She offered a warm smile.

He nodded once before walking out.

The room was left in tense silence.

Appetites were gone, but we still ate.

It was a dinner thrown in my honor, but the last thing I wanted was for Rosemary to feel she’d failed.

Slowly, the table shifted back to motion. Plates nudged forward, glasses refilled. The easy rhythm was gone, replaced by something jagged, careful. The air was tight, every scrape of silverware too loud.

Colton, ever the mask of dry civility, lifted his glass with a sigh. “Well. This family has officially outdone itself in dramatics. Even Shakespeare would blush.”

“Shut up,” Gianna muttered, her voice low.

I sat there, pulse thundering, Aaron’s hand heavy on mine. My eyes drifted to the small velvet box still open before me-the rattles glinting like fragile promises.

Two lives inside me. A storm around me. And at the edge of it all, a brother trying-maybe too late-to come home.

The dinner limped on. Forks scraped porcelain, conversations stuttered and died. No one mentioned the storm that had just passed through the room, but its shadow lingered in every corner, dark and heavy.

Rosemary, to her credit, kept her composure. She guided the table back to safer shores-asking Gianna about how working under Connor was treating her, coaxing Lucien into another dry remark about London weather. Engaging Colton in one thing they had in common. Traveling and exploring. Still, I caught her eyes more than once drifting toward the doors Dorian had left through, sorrow tucked deep in her expression.

I wanted to case it. To tell her the night wasn’t ruined, that her grace had carried us all through. But every time I opened my mouth, Aaron’s hand tightened around mine, and the words died in my throat.

He didn’t release me once. His jaw was cut stone, his eyes shadows and flame, watching everything, everyone. He barely ate. He didn’t need to-he was feeding on vigilance, on fury held tight beneath his ribs.

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Chapter 179

59

I caught Colton watching him once, concern flickering briefly before he buried it under another sardonic sip

of wine.

Finally, the plates were cleared. Dessert lingered untouched-lemon tart, gleaming gold beneath the chandelier, forgotten like some relic of an easier night.

Rosemary lifted her glass, her voice soft but determined. “To Venus. To the new life she brings into this family. To love that grows, no matter what storms rage around it.”

The toast rippled through the table, glasses raised. Mine shook faintly as I touched Aaron’s.

But he didn’t drink. He stood instead, the scrape of his chair pulling every eye to him. His presence filled the room, towering, inevitable.

His gaze swept the table once, then dropped to me. He didn’t soften, but his grip on my hand gentled-a command dressed as care.

“I think we should get going mom,” he said. His voice was low, final. “Venus is exhausted.”

No one argued. No one dared.

Rosemary reached across, brushing her fingers lightly over mine, her smile tender even through the tension. “Rest well, darling.”

I managed a smile back, though my heart still thundered.

Aaron didn’t wait for permission. He drew me to my feet, his arm a firm cage around my waist, guiding me out of the dining room as though the walls themselves might try to steal me if he let go.

And as the doors closed behind us, the last thing I saw was the box of silver rattles still glinting on the table— unopened wine glasses standing guard around it like witnesses to a night no one would ever forget.

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20:46 Wed, Jan 14