VENUS
“You’ll be fine, Mom. I promise.” I smiled, even if it felt like lying through my teeth. “My job pays well, I’ve got savings, we’ll handle the chemo soon.” I had to be strong. For both of us. She gave a weak sigh, eyes glistening. “You shouldn’t be wasting your life on me, Venus. You’re only twenty-two. You should be out there living, dancing, falling in love…” “Stop.” I tucked a stray curl behind her ear and kissed her forehead. “You don’t worry about anything. I’ve got us.” Her voice dropped. “How’s your dad?” My jaw clenched. Of course, she couldn’t meet my eyes. The man hadn’t visited once since her diagnosis. “I haven’t seen him since Sunday,” I said flatly. “And I hope I don’t. It’s been peaceful.” She opened her mouth—probably to defend him again—but I stood. “I have to get to work, Mom. I’ll see you later.” “Thank you for coming every day, sweetheart. I don’t deserve you.” “You do,” I said, hugging her. “I’m your daughter. That’s all that matters.” ------ I hailed a cab, dropped into the backseat, and clutched my bag like my life depended on it. Inside was the file. The file. The one Aaron Sinclair had tossed onto my desk last night like a time bomb. You’d check twice too if you worked for a man like him—dangerous in Dior, heartless in Hugo. He’s the kind of man who walks into a room and makes gravity shift. Broad shoulders. Razor jaw. Hazel eyes that could slice through you if his words hadn’t already done it. To every other woman, he’s a fantasy. To me? A nightmare in tailored suits. Two months working under him, and I swear he gets off on making my life miserable. Impossible deadlines, inhuman workload, cold stares that could freeze hell itself. And yet he hasn’t fired me. Because no matter how much he wants to break me, I always deliver. Why not quit, you ask? Because I can’t. I was a waitress before this, barely surviving. This job is the reason my mother has a bed in a hospital and not a floor in a rundown clinic. I have a degree, yes. But the world doesn’t pay in potential, it pays in cold, hard results. The cab pulled up in front of the towering steel-and-glass building I now called hell. I paid, got out, and took a deep breath. Showtime. ------ The second I stepped into my office—just a thin wall away from Mr. Sinclair’s—the intercom rang. “My office. Now.” No greeting. Just that voice. Sharp. Clipped. Cold. “God, give me strength,” I muttered and walked to his door. Knock. “Come in.” I entered and stood straighter than usual. “Good morning, Mr. Sinclair. You called for me?” He didn’t look up right away. When he did, those hazel eyes locked on mine like a sniper's target. “Sit,” he said, irritation laced in every syllable. I sat. The silence stretched. Long enough to make me fidget. Then— “Marry me.” I blinked. My brain stalled. “What?” “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he said smoothly, like he hadn’t just shattered reality. And just like that, my nightmare said he wanted to make it legal.VENUSIt started to feel… routine.If you could call waking up in the middle of the night, shaking and gasping, a routine.The first night, I told myself it was just a fluke. Too many emotions, too much noise, and then sudden quiet. But then it happened again. And again. And again.By the third night, I didn’t even hesitate anymore. I just padded down the hall, bare feet brushing the carpet, and climbed into his bed like I belonged there. Like I’d been doing it my whole life.And Aaron never once made me feel like I was intruding.If anything, it was the opposite.The second my body hit the mattress, he’d pull me against him, no questions, no hesitation, just his arm locking firmly around my waist, his chin brushing the top of my head like he was making sure I stayed exactly where I was. Sometimes he’d murmur low reassurances until my breathing matched his. Sometimes he didn’t speak at all, just let his warmth and steady heartbeat work their way under my skin until sleep came for me a
VENUS The penthouse didn’t go quiet all at once.It was a gradual dimming like the sun slipping below the horizon in increments so small you almost miss them.One by one, they said their goodbyes. Rosemary kissed my cheek again, her perfume lingering long after she’d stepped into the private elevator. Silas shook Aaron’s hand with that firm, wordless exchange men like them have mastered, then rested his palm briefly on my shoulder, like a quiet reassurance. Alana clung to me the longest, her small fingers tight around mine until Aaron gently pried them loose and promised she could see me tomorrow.Gianna and Lucien? left together, their voices low as they stepped into the hallway. Connor and Sabine stayed long enough to help clear a few mugs from the living room before muttering something about an early meeting. Jude also hitched a ride with them. The laughter and chatter that had filled the space just hours ago faded until the only sound left was the faint hum of the refrigerator a
AARONOne week agoThe hospital at night was the kind of quiet that made you hear your own pulse.Most people hated it. I didn’t.The absence of noise gave me room to think. And lately, that was the only time I had to actually line my thoughts up instead of letting them claw at each other in my head.I was in Venus’s room, leaning against the wall near the window. The lights were low, the steady beeping of the monitor filling the space between her breaths. She was asleep, head turned slightly toward me, one hand curled near her face like she was bracing against something even in her dreams.That hand had been gripping mine before she drifted off.I told her I’d stay until she woke. I meant it.The knock came soft, but I didn’t miss it.I turned my head just enough to see who stepped inside.Colton Ashford.He moved like someone who wasn’t sure if he belonged here but his eyes were locked on Venus like he’d been staring at her for years without being able to touch.I stayed exactly whe
VENUS The ride home felt too quiet.Maybe because I was waiting for my chest to stop aching from everything Aaron had just said.Spoiler: it didn’t.The elevator ride up felt too quiet. The thing about hospitals is they have a way of keeping you in this half-suspended state, like you’re wrapped in gauze and muffled sound. Stepping into the penthouse was like the bandages came off all at once.The air was warmer here. Lived in.The faint scent of rosemary bread, coffee, and something sweet—vanilla maybe—wrapped around me before I even stepped forward. And then… the noise.Not the hospital’s low, sterile hum.Not the beeping of monitors or the squeak of nurses’ shoes.Laughter.Soft chatter.The shuffle of someone’s feet on polished wood.It was so normal that it knocked the breath out of me.I didn’t expect them all to be here. Honestly, I thought maybe Gianna would be waiting, maybe Connor, maybe one or two others if Aaron had warned them I was coming. But they were all here. All of
VENUSThe thing about hearing I love you from someone you’ve been quietly bleeding for is that… it’s never clean.It doesn’t just land like a soft kiss; it hits like a collision.It shoves open doors you’d boarded up, shines light in corners you’ve been keeping dark on purpose.The me before Gerald happened would've been estatic,Happy that he finally felt the same.But now? I didn't feel good enough for anyone.So I decided that I'd push him away.I just stood there, my fingers gripping the hospital-issued tote so tight the straps bit into my palms.The clothes inside suddenly weighed a hundred pounds. Or maybe it was me.Aaron was watching me like a man who’d just set himself on fire and was waiting to see if I’d throw water on him or walk away.“I don’t…” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you expect me to do with that.”He didn’t even blink. “I don’t expect anything.”“Don’t lie to me.” The laugh that came out of me was hollow, brittle. “Nobody drops I love you
VENUSThe hospital discharge papers felt too light for the weight they carried.Two weeks. That’s how long I’d been here, existing in a place that smelled like antiseptic and false hope, the air too clean to be real. My body had healed enough to pass whatever checklist they had, but my head? That was another story.The nightmares still came, clawing at me the moment my eyes closed. The smell of damp earth, Gerald’s voice in my ear, the sound of soil sliding over wood. My therapist told me it would take time, that I had to let myself heal instead of trying to “push through it.” Easy for her to say, she hadn’t been buried alive by a man who claimed to love her.Still, I was walking out of here. Weak, yes. Shaken, definitely. But walking.Aaron had insisted on helping me pack what little I’d brought in—mostly the clothes Gianna and Sabine had brought after I was admitted. He was methodical about it, folding things with an efficiency that would’ve made a drill sergeant proud.And he’d bee