VENUSI didn’t beg.Not at first.But my silence was its own confession, louder than any whispered yes, filthier than any plea.Because I didn’t move. Didn’t run. Didn’t slap him like I should have.I just stood there, trembling against him. Wide-eyed. Breathless. His hands on my waist, his mouth brushing mine. Everything about him screamed danger but I wasn’t backing down. I wanted to touch the flame. Let it burn me alive.This was wrong. And I’d be the one left bleeding.“You’re quiet, Venus,” Aaron murmured, his fingers dragging down my spine. “Should I take that as a yes?”I blinked slowly, lips parted, heart slamming against my ribs like a prisoner demanding release. “This is insane.”“No.” His eyes darkened. “This is us.”And then he spun me.My back hit the wall, his hands bracketing my head. His body caged mine, heat rolling off him like a furnace. My legs weakened, instincts screaming to flee while desire rooted me in place.“You think I don’t notice?” he said, voice low, rou
VENUS“There’s nothing between us.”Lies. Bitter, choking lies.“I give you a free pass. Go back to fucking Andrea. I don’t care.”God. More lies.Because the truth?When he said he wasn’t sleeping with her, my chest loosened like it had been tied with barbed wire. That relief? It was dangerous.Because I knew exactly where this was going. I was falling—sinking into Aaron Sinclair—and I couldn’t stop it.And worse? He would never fall with me.Whatever he felt for me wasn’t affection. It was hunger. Lust. The kind that sets your sheets on fire and leaves your soul cold.He’d said it himself:“Don’t confuse chemistry with meaning. I can want your body and not give a damn about you.”Yeah. Message received.So I did what I always did when the walls cracked—I pushed.“I’m tired,” I said, eyes fixed anywhere but his. “And I have to get up early tomorrow.”“For what?” His voice dipped, acidic. “To meet Dorian?”I sighed. “I’m not in the mood for this.”I tried to move, but he didn’t budge,
VENUSI stopped waiting for him to notice.Aaron Sinclair wasn’t my husband. He was a business partner with a signature on paper and a kiss that clearly didn’t mean a damn thing when Andrea’s lipstick was smeared on his collar.So I moved differently.Quieter.Colder.Gone were the nights I waited to hear his key turn in the lock.Gone were the soft morning greetings and shared silences over coffee that once hinted at something fragile and unspoken.I stopped checking in.Started going out.Lunch with Gianna. Coffee with an old classmate. Walks that stretched longer than necessary. One too many visits to my mom’s apartment just to feel warmth, to hear someone say my name without tension curled around it.And he noticed.I saw it in the way his eyes lingered a little longer than they should have.The way his jaw clenched when I walked through the door after dark.The way his voice dipped when he asked Jude, “Where’s Venus?”But I gave him nothing.Let him simmer in the silence he hande
VENUSI stayed at my mother’s for another hour.We didn’t talk much—not about Aaron, not about the cold war brewing between us, not about the words we’d both swallowed weeks ago. We just were. She made tea the way she always had—loose leaves, no sugar. I helped her fold laundry, soft and worn from years of use. We sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch in that tiny apartment, and for a brief, borrowed moment, the world didn’t feel like it was chewing me up from the inside out.When I left, I felt… lighter.Lighter, but not weightless.That time with my mother, it made something painfully clear. Aaron was right. About the boundaries. About the silence.About us.This was a contract. A business arrangement dressed up in diamonds and shared addresses. Nothing more.And if he could keep his distance, then damn it—I could too.I had my mother again. I had purpose. That was all that mattered now.I clung to that truth like armor as I returned to the penthouse that night.It was empty.No coa
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