Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss (Venus and Aaron) novel Chapter 203

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AARON

Paris didn’t look like itself tonight.

The city was supposed to glow – gold lights, soft rain, life humming even at midnight. But from where I sat, half-slumped in the backseat of a black sedan parked along the Seine, the world felt blurred. Like I was watching it through frosted glass.

The rain traced thin, meandering lines down the window. Each drop distorted the reflection of the street lamps, smearing them into molten halos. My head throbbed. A slow, deep ache that pulsed behind my eyes, rhythmic as a heartbeat.

I couldn’t remember.

That was the part that terrified me most.

I couldn’t remember what happened last night.

—

I remembered arriving at the hotel that much was clear. There’d been a late dinner after the conference, some foreign investors I barely cared to impress. A glass of wine, maybe two. I remembered shaking hands, polite laughter, the dull murmur of business talk. Then – nothing. A clean, merciless blank.

And now… this.

The world screaming headlines about me. About her. About betrayal.

My name, my marriage, my integrity – dragged through the mud by people who had never met me.

I scrolled through the phone screen for the hundredth time. Missed calls, unread messages.

Venus (12)

Jane (9)

Connor (5)

Colton (3)

Each one like a shard pressing against my chest.

I opened the first voicemail. Her voice hit me like a punch.

“Aaron… I saw the news. I don’t care about what they’re saying, okay? I trust you. I know you wouldn’t do that.

The sound of her breath caught midway through the message. My throat tightened instantly.

She left another right after. “Please just… please pick up. I’m worried. I don’t even care about the story, or what they think. I just need to hear your voice. Tell me you’re okay.”

I closed my eyes.

God.

>>

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Her voice had always been my anchor. Even in moments like this, when everything felt like it was collapsing, she was steady. Fierce in her love, unshaken by chaos. And now I’d dragged her into a nightmare.

The next voicemail was different – the tremor sharper.

“Aaron, the kids are fine. Sabine’s fine. Just call me back, please. I just need to know you’re safe.”

I pressed the phone against my forehead, eyes burning. I could almost see her pacing, hand in her hair, tears she’d never let fall until she was alone. I knew her too well.

The problem was – I didn’t know myself right now.

Every time I tried to remember the night before, I hit a wall. A blank white wall.

There were flashes – the sound of laughter, the dim glow of chandeliers, the click of a camera maybe? No. That could’ve been anything.

And the woman – whoever she was – I couldn’t even picture her face.

All I knew was this: I would never cheat on Venus.

Never.

Not because of obligation or image – but because she was it. The person who made sense when nothing else did. The only one who saw me for who I was and still loved me.

I unlocked the phone again. Another message had just come through, timestamped fifteen minutes ago. Connor.

CONNOR: Jane says your phone’s off. The press is going insane. Call someone, man. Anything.

I tossed the phone onto the seat beside me. My reflection in the rain-streaked glass looked nothing like me. Pale. Disoriented. Haunted.

The driver glanced in the mirror. “Monsieur Sinclair, do you wish to go somewhere?”

I hesitated. My French was decent, but I didn’t trust my voice right now. “Just… drive,” I murmured.

He nodded and pulled onto the road. The hum of the engine was steady, hypnotic. Streetlights flickered past like slow, deliberate heartbeats.

My mind was chaos.

If the story was true if there really was a woman, a photo, a room – how?

–

Had someone drugged me? Set me up? The idea sounded paranoid, but I’d made enemies before. Competitors, political donors, people who’d have everything to gain from watching me fall.

Still, I couldn’t piece it together. I reached for fragments and got nothing but static.

The hotel room. The smell of perfume, The weight of guilt that didn’t belong to me.

I ran a hand down my face, trying to breathe.

The phone buzzed again. Another voicemail from Venus. I couldn’t stop myself. I hit play.

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“Aaron, please. I’m begging you. Just call me. If you’re in trouble, we can fix it. Just tell me you’re safe.”

Her voice broke at the end. Just slightly. But I heard it.

That was it. That was all it took.

I couldn’t leave her in the dark like that.

I picked up the phone, stared at her name glowing on the screen. My thumb hovered for a second, then pressed call.

The dial tone felt endless. Then

“Hello?”

Her voice. Shaky, hopeful, small.

“Venus…” I managed, my throat raw.

The silence that followed was fragile, the kind that could shatter with a whisper.

“Aaron.” Her voice cracked on my name. “Oh my God. Where are you?”

I exhaled shakily, pressing a hand against my temple. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I mean… I don’t remember.” I swallowed hard, the words scraping out of me. “I woke up this morning and- everything’s a blur. I’m somewhere in Paris, I think near the river. I just—”

I stopped, the words collapsing under the weight of shame.

“Venus, I swear to you, whatever they’re saying— it isn’t true.”

“I know.” Her answer was immediate. Firm. No hesitation.

I closed my eyes. Her belief in me was a knife and a balm at once.

She took a shaky breath. “Aaron, listen to me. We’re worried sick. Connor’s here. Colton too. The kids are asleep.” Her voice trembled, but she was steadying herself for me, like she always did. “You need to go back to the hotel.”

“I-I can’t go back there,”

“You can,” she said softly but with steel beneath it. “You’re not running. Go back to your hotel. Jane will handle the rest.”

“Venus-”

“She’ll charter a flight for you,” she continued. “You’ll come home, and then we’ll talk. Okay? We’ll figure this out together.”

Her voice gentled on the last word – together.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to tell her everything — the confusion, the dread, the feeling of

–

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being trapped in someone else’s story. But I couldn’t form the words.

“Please, Aaron,” she whispered. “Be fine for the kids.”

–

—

There was a pause and then, quieter, almost an afterthought “For me.”

That broke me.

I pressed my fist to my mouth, eyes burning, fighting to stay composed.

“Okay,” I breathed. “Okay. I’ll go back.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good,” she said softly. “Text me when you’re there. Don’t talk to anyone. Just… come home.”

The line went quiet for a second. I could hear her breathing – steady, rhythmic, the sound of home.

“Venus?” I said quietly.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

―

“I know.” Her voice cracked just a little. “Just get home, Aaron.”

The line clicked.

For a while, I didn’t move. The city kept going outside – cars sliding through puddles, laughter from a café, the Eiffel Tower glowing faintly in the distance. But everything felt muted.

I leaned my head against the cold glass, closing my eyes. Her words replayed in my mind

That was my anchor.

I told the driver to take me back to the hotel. He nodded silently.

–

for the kids… for me.

When we pulled up, reporters were still camped outside, flashes lighting up the entrance like a storm. I ducked my head, pulled up the hood of my jacket, and slipped through the side entrance.

The elevator ride felt endless. My reflection in the mirrored walls looked like a ghost.

Inside the room, the air smelled faintly of perfume – unfamiliar, expensive. The sheets were clean now, but I could still see the ghost of the image that had been plastered all over the news.

I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, hands clasped together so tightly my knuckles went white.

I had no memory of her being here. None,

I remembered checking in, ordering room service, a call from Jane about the conference. Then nothing.

The images online – me shirtless, someone half-hidden beside me – they didn’t even look real. My eyes were unfocused in them, my body slack.

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A setup. It had to be.

But by who?

And why now?

My mind spiraled through names, rivals, deals that had gone wrong. But all I could think of was Venus – alone in that house, clutching the phone, trying to keep it together for the kids.

I wanted to hold her. To tell her I’d fix this, even if I didn’t know how yet.

I picked up the phone again. Texted Jane.

AARON: I’m at the hotel. Need to leave tonight.

Her reply came within seconds.

JANE: Understood. I’ll arrange a private jet to New York. First flight out at 6 a.m.

I set the phone down and stared at the window. The rain had slowed, the city softening under the weight of it.

I leaned back, letting my eyes close. Venus’s voice still echoed in my head, calm and broken all at once.

Be fine for the kids. For me.

And for the first time since morning, I felt a small, fragile thread of something like direction.

I would go home.

I would hold her.

And I would find out who had done this to us.

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