Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss (Venus and Aaron) novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40

VENUS

We were getting married in a church.

Not some grand cathedral with stained glass and choirs belting hallelujahs-just a small chapel tucked away on a quiet Roman street. White-washed walls. Ivy creeping across the stone like whispered secrets. The kind of silence that made it feel like even the universe was holding its breath.

The tyrant-my now-husband-had already arranged the marriage license. Of course he did. Aaron Sinclair didn’t do anything halfway. I barely had time to panic. One blink and I was engaged. Another… and I was a bride.

The dress was waiting outside my door. Draped on a velvet hanger like it belonged in a showroom. It wasn’t traditional-no lace, no dramatic train, no veil. Just a knee-length ivory dress, sleeveless, with delicate pearl buttons trailing down the back. The cinched waist hugged my body so well I had to stop and stare at myself. Simple. Elegant. Unapologetically beautiful.

A pair of satin heels sat beside it.

No note. No instructions.

Just… this is what you’ll wear to say yes to a man who never really asked.

And yet, I wore it.

Slicked my hair into a tight bun. Minimal makeup. A touch of mascara. Gloss with just enough shimmer. I looked like the star of a fashion editorial called Accidental Wife: A Three-Year Commitment to Chaos.

A driver took me to the chapel.

Aaron was already there.

Charcoal suit. No tie. Crisp lines and quiet power stitched into every seam. He looked immaculate. Detached. Like he was walking into a board meeting, not a marriage.

The officiant droned through the vows in a language I barely understood-Italian? Latin? Honestly, it could’ve been Klingon, and I wouldn’t have noticed. My brain was too busy chanting: Three years. Three years. Three years.

I stole glances at him.

He didn’t look at me once.

When he said “I do,” it sounded like he was signing off an email. When I said mine, it came out like a dare.

And then, the last thing I expected-he kissed me.

Really kissed me.

And I kissed him back.

It wasn’t polite. It wasn’t staged-or so I thought. It was messy and real enough that we forgot the officiant was even standing there-until he cleared his throat, loudly.

I pulled back, my face burning.

Venus Sinclair.

It looked beautiful. It didn’t feel real.

After the ceremony, we wer

ushered into the courtyard for photos, A local photographer with bright eyes and too much energy moved us like we were cover models for a bridal magazine.

Aaron was stiff. Predictably so. I’d never seen a single photo of him smiling, and today was no exception.

“Smile, husband,” I teased, leaning in with a grin. “Or people will think I forced you into this.”

He didn’t even blink.

“Could you manage a smile?” the photographer asked, still hopeful.

His lips twitched. Just barely. A half-smile that looked like it got lost on its way to being real.

“That’ll do,” she muttered.

“Get a little closer,” she said.

Successfully unlocked!

Before I could move, his hands slipped around my waist, puing the us against him. No hesitation. Just effortless, arrogant confidence.

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Chapter 40

I stumbled, my heel catching the cobblestone, and his grip tightened-steadying me like it was second nature.

The camera clicked.

“Perfect,” the photographer murmured. “You two are such a beautiful couple.”

I could’ve laughed. I could’ve screamed.

Instead, I smiled. Sweet. Controlled. My cheeks flushed beneath the compliment. Maybe it was the Rome sun. Maybe it was the lie I was living so well, I was starting to believe it.

“Thank you,” I said softly. Steel wrapped in silk.

She left us alone. The courtyard emptied.

But Aaron didn’t let go.

He was still holding me.

I looked up, expecting something cold or snide.

But he was just… staring.

That unreadable expression again. Like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t remember building.

“You look breathtaking,” he said.

And just like that, my breath caught.

Then-his phone buzzed. And the moment shattered.

He let go.

The spell broke.

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He turned away, answering the call as he walked toward the waiting car.

I stood there, dress fluttering in the breeze, the last click of the camera echoing like a goodbye.

Back at the condo, I peeled the dress off carefully, like it might bite. Laid it on the bed. Slipped into a robe.

And collapsed.

The ceiling above me felt too white. Too clean. Too unfamiliar.

The silence was loud.

And that’s when it hit me.

Not with fireworks. Not with fear.

Just… a quiet, sharp truth slipping into my thoughts like ice:

I’m married.

To Aaron Sinclair.

For three years.

No undo button. No reset. No escape.

And the strangest part?

I wasn’t scared.

I was curious.

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