VENUSAaron had always been sharp with his words. Brutal, even.But silence?Silence was worse.It followed me like a ghost after that night at the penthouse. No door slams. No biting remarks. Nothing.Just silence.He didn’t look at me unless he had to. Didn’t touch me. Didn’t linger like he used to when I walked past him in nothing but silk and pride.I’d bet the entire office could feel the shift. Jude tiptoed around me like I might shatter if he spoke too loudly.Aaron was polite.Cold.Painfully distant.And I?I let him be.Because somewhere in the quiet, I realized… he was right.I had crossed a line. I had interfered. And the worst part? I didn’t even regret it.But it weighed on me. Heavy. Suffocating. Like I’d cracked something I didn’t know how to glue back.And I missed my mother.I missed the scent of pepper soup wafting through our apartment. The click of her knitting needles. The way she hummed old love songs under her breath like they were lullabies for herself.I miss
VENUSDinner was a performance.Crystal glasses. Polished silver. Courses so delicate they looked painted on the plates.And yet, the moment I stepped into the room, I felt it—that shift.Aaron was already seated at the head of the table, one arm draped lazily over the back of his chair like a king surveying his kingdom. But when his eyes found mine, that lazy calm cracked. Just for a second. Just enough.I didn’t break eye contact as I moved toward my seat.His gaze sharpened. Like he knew. Like he always knew.Sabine sat across from me, expression unreadable, her fingers wrapped too tightly around her wine glass. Connor arrived a beat late, which meant he’d been avoiding her—or trying not to look like he’d been looking for her. Rosemary, back in full hostess mode, floated through pleasantries like she hadn’t just unraveled my entire emotional foundation twenty minutes ago.Aaron said nothing. Not yet.But I could feel it.That tension. That unspoken what did she tell you curling ben
VENUSSabine wasn’t ready to talk.But that didn’t mean she didn’t.She told me everything in that signature Sabine-way—truth wrapped in glitter, deflection folded into sarcasm. But beneath all the sparkle, the story bled through.It started last year. An accident, she said. A drunken night that wasn’t supposed to repeat—until it did. Again and again. And now? They were stuck in a rhythm of not-quite love, not-quite lust, and definitely too many secrets.“I don’t do commitment,” she muttered, twirling the stick of her now-finished lollipop between her fingers. “But with him... it’s like he sees through every performance I try to give.”I didn’t press her. The look on her face said more than enough.She was scared.And maybe—just maybe—a little in love.But we didn’t get to dig deeper. Because a few minutes before dinner, she found me.Rosemary.She slipped beside me in the hallway, poised and graceful in that timeless, silk-wrapped way of hers.“Venus,” she said, gently curling her fi
VENUS When we returned to the table, Andrea was already gone. No dramatic exit. No storming heels or slammed doors. Just her empty wineglass—and the scent of her chaos, lingering like cheap perfume in a velvet room. “She said she had something important to get to,” Rosemary offered with a polite smile. Right. Something important. Like poisoning the air then vanishing before it turned on her. Lunch wrapped fast after that. Connor cracked some joke about the “bloodbath in Bordeaux.” Alanna giggled, bless her naive little heart. Sabine met my eyes with a smirk so smug I wanted to flick her forehead. But Aaron? He was too calm. That dangerous kind of calm. The kind that screams without sound. And when Rosemary stood, her voice soft as silk, announcing dinner would be at seven and that we were free to wander, I swear—every soul in that room exhaled. The storm had passed. But no one was foolish enough to believe the skies were clear. People scattered like leaves. I hea
VENUSThe silence that followed her entrance wasn’t awkward.It was loaded.Andrea stood at the threshold like she knew she was the disruption. Like she’d rehearsed this moment—how she’d walk in, how we’d all freeze, how her name would echo in our heads like a warning bell.And it did.Even Alanna, mid-story about a sandstorm, stopped mid-sentence—her wide eyes fixed on the stranger who now commanded every breath in the room.Rosemary stood, graceful as ever, smoothing her dress and offering a warm, measured smile.“Andrea,” she said lightly. “You’re here?”Andrea stepped inside, heels clicking with surgical precision.“I saw you at the gala yesterday,” she replied, her voice all velvet and smoke. “Thought I’d drop by and say hi. I hope I’m not imposing.”She didn’t sound sorry. Not even a little.I glanced at Aaron. His posture was relaxed—too relaxed. But his grip on the wineglass? White-knuckled. His jaw tight, unreadable.Andrea’s gaze swept the room—Rosemary. Silas. Connor.And t
VENUSThe dining room was a cathedral of elegance—arched windows kissing the ceiling, a chandelier dripping with crystal like a thousand frozen teardrops, and a table long enough to host a royal inquisition. I took my seat beside Aaron, hyper-aware of the heat still lingering on my lips… and the silence that followed after.The first to arrive was Sabine.She walked in like she owned the floor—the house, even. Her navy silk dress clung to her like it was part of her skin, heels tapping softly against marble, chin high and smile effortless. She didn’t just move through the space… she commanded it."Rosemary!" she called warmly, crossing the room with arms already open.Rosemary lit up like the sun. “Sabine, darling.”The hug that followed was long, familiar. Intimate.“Look at you,” Rosemary cooed, pulling back. “More stunning every time I see you.”"You’re the one aging backwards," Sabine grinned. "Seriously, I need your skincare routine. That serum from France or are you just living