Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss (Venus and Aaron) novel Chapter 238

Chapter 39

VENUS

The drive home was quiet.

Not the sharp, suffocating quiet that follows an argument. Not the kind that dares you to speak first. This silence didn’t ask for anything at all. It simply existed, settled between us like something already agreed upon.

The tires whispered against asphalt. The city blurred past the tinted windows, distant and irrelevant. George sat beside me,

small hands folded in his lap, eyes trained on the passing shapes outside. He wasn’t asleep, just withdrawn, like he’d tucked himself somewhere safe inside his own head.

Aaron sat in the front passenger seat.

Not beside me.

But not far, either.

He hadn’t looked back since we left the clinic.

That was the first thing I noticed.

Not anger. Not withdrawal. Just… distance.

“Let’s tighten the formation once we hit the bridge,” Aaron said calmly. “I don’t want any lane drift.”

The driver acknowledged.

Aaron’s voice was steady. Controlled. The same tone he used in boardrooms and crisis rooms-measured, deliberate, careful not to bleed emotion into places where it could cause damage.

He wasn’t ignoring me.

He was honoring what I’d asked for.

Space.

That realization landed heavily.

I shifted slightly in my seat. George’s hand slid into mine, instinctive. I laced my fingers through his, grounding myself in the warmth of him, the reality of him. Proof that not everything was unraveling at once.

Aaron glanced back then-not at me, but at George.

“You okay back there?” he asked gently.

George nodded. “Yeah.”

Aaron held his gaze for a second longer, searching for signs only a parent would know to look for. Then he nodded once and turned back to the road ahead.

That was it.

No follow-up.

1/5

그

No lecture.

No sideways glance in my direction.

I felt something twist low in my chest.

The house came into view too soon.

Gates opening. Security moving with their usual efficiency. Familiarity layered over fear until it all blurred together. When the car stopped, Aaron got out first-not rushing, not tense, just purposeful.

He opened George’s door himself.

“Hey,” he said quietly, offering a hand. “We’re home.”

George took it without hesitation.

That hurt more than it should have.

Aaron helped him down, adjusted his jacket, brushed invisible dust from his sleeve. He did the same with Sabine when Rosemary brought her out, lifting her easily, pressing a kiss to her hair.

He didn’t look at me while he did it.

But he didn’t avoid me either.

He was just… focused.

Inside, the house absorbed us without comment.

“Dinner in about twenty minutes,” Rosemary said softly, eyes flicking between us like she was reading weather patterns.

Aaron replied. “Thank you, mom.”

He handed Sabine back to her gently. “Baths after dinner. I’ll read to George tonight.’

Rosemary nodded, relief flickering across her face.

I stood there, suddenly aware of my stillness, my silence.

“Aaron,” I said.

He paused.

Turned.

Gave me his full attention.

))

“Yes?”

The simplicity of it almost undid me.

“I’m… going to lie down for a bit,” I said. “I need some quiet.”

2/5

No edge. No challenge. Just honesty, bare and thin.

He studied my face-not probing, not suspicious. Just taking me in.

“Okay,” he said. “Take the time you need.”

That was it.

No questions.

No conditions.

No attempt to follow.

He didn’t tell me when dinner would be ready. Didn’t ask where I was going. Didn’t offer to sit with me or fix it

or make it better.

He let me go.

And somehow, that hurt worse than if he hadn’t.

Because I knew the outcome of my actions doesn’t make it hurt less.

I drifted through the house afterward, the quiet stretching long and hollow. The walls held memories too loud for the silence to fully contain. Laughter trapped in corners. Footsteps echoing where Iris used to run.

Her room stopped me like a hand on my chest.

I pushed the door open slowly.

Nothing had changed.

Her bed was still made, stuffed animals lined up with ceremonial care. Her favorite book lay open on the rug, pages bent where she’d fallen asleep reading it weeks ago.

I knelt and picked it up.

Something slipped free.

A phone.

Small. Black. Unmarked.

My breath stuttered.

Andrea.

Of course.

I didn’t turn it on right away. I sat there, Iris’s book heavy in my lap, my pulse loud enough I was sure someone could hear it. I thought of Aaron in the hallway, giving me space he didn’t want to give. Trust he hadn’t been ready to offer.

Then I powered the phone on.

3/5

One video.

Five seconds.

I pressed play.

Iris filled the screen.

Alive.

Sitting on a bed, chewing something thoughtfully, hair messy, eyes heavy with sleep. No sound. No clues. Just proof.

My chest collapsed inward.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, tears spilling silently as relief and terror tangled together until I couldn’t tell them apart.

She was okay.

For now.

The video ended.

A message appeared beneath it.

> See? Cooperation has its benefits.

No praise.

No cruelty.

Just reinforcement.

I closed my eyes and breathed.

This was why.

This was the cost.

I slipped the phone back into the book exactly where it had been and returned it to the floor. No trace. No disruption.

How did she get this in here with everyone at home?

A guard?

One of the maids?

The gardener?

When I stood, I caught my reflection in the mirror.

I didn’t look like a villain.

4/5

I looked like a mother holding herself together with discipline and lies.

Down the hall, I heard Aaron’s voice low and steady as he spoke to George.

He was giving me the space I’d asked for.

And I didn’t know whether that meant he trusted me…

Or whether he was preparing himself not to need me as much.

Either way, the distance was real now.

And it was mine.

For Iris.

Always.

BIG SALE: 3500 bonus free fou you

D

Comments

+2

Support

Share

get it

5/5

X