บททั้งหมดของ Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss : บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

VENUSMy mouth was dry.So dry it felt like someone had scraped sandpaper along the inside of my throat. I tried to move only to realize I couldn’t.My arms… my legs…Rope. Coarse and unrelenting. Wrapped tight. Biting into the skin with a cruel rhythm. My wrists were pinned behind the back of the wooden chair, my ankles secured to its legs. The more I struggled, the deeper the rope dug in. A fresh wave of pain exploded from every twitch it was harp, red and raw.Panic licked up my spine.I opened my eyes fully.Concrete. Bare. Grey.A single bulb buzzed above, its yellow light sputtering like it was ready to die. It swayed gently, casting shadows that danced in slow, sinister arcs across the floor. The walls were raw cement, streaked with mold and something darker. Unfinished. Windowless. There was only one door, it was metal, bolted and thick.The air smelled like rust and oil. Old oil. The kind that seeps into everything.I tried to scream, only to realize my mouth had been sealed

AARONThe city lights smeared past my windshield like they were trying to outrun the clock.But nothing outran me.Not when Venus was missing.The silence in the car was maddening. The engine's purr, the subtle thrum of tires on asphalt, none of it soothed me. I wasn’t just driving. I was hunting. Following the ghost of a blinking dot that had died hours ago.Venus.I thought she was ignoring me at first. When she didn’t pick up the first few calls, I gave her space. We’d fought. I pushed too hard. Said things I shouldn’t have. I knew she needed time, and I thought I was giving her that. Letting her cool down.But by the fourth call? When her phone still rang and then stopped altogether? When the texts I sent didn’t deliver anymore?That wasn’t silence anymore. That was absence.I didn’t sleep last night. Dread pooled inside me like molasses, thick and slow but inescapable. I kept staring at the screen, refreshing the tracking app, praying she’d turn her phone back on.She didn’t.So

VENUSI didn’t sleep.Couldn’t.Every time I closed my eyes, the darkness didn’t bring rest. It brought memory. The sting of Billy’s hand across my face. The taste of blood. The echo of my own heartbeat thrashing in my chest. And beneath it all, the overwhelming silence that crawled into your head and made a home.The concrete floor scraped my back with every movement, biting through the thin cotton of my shirt like sandpaper on skin. The ropes around my wrists and ankles burned with every twitch, every breath. My shoulders screamed. My throat was so dry, it felt like I’d swallowed fire and it had stayed there, smoldering.But none of that mattered. Not really. Not compared to the storm churning behind my ribcage. The questions. The betrayal. The creeping horror that this wasn’t a warning, or a threat.This was a disappearing act. One that might never end.I hadn’t had food or water since I woke up in this cement coffin. My mouth was parched. My lips cracked. My body ached. But it was

VENUSTwo Days LaterTime doesn’t pass here. It dissolves.The days bled into each other, long and cruel, like a bruise that keeps spreading under the skin. I had no clock, no sun, no shift in light to mark the hours. Only that damn bulb, still flickering like it was mocking me.I stopped counting after 7,100-something.My lips were splitting. My tongue was thick, too dry to swallow. My throat had become a graveyard of words I could no longer speak. The ache in my limbs had turned to numbness. The kind of numb that wraps itself around your bones and whispers, this is it.Sleep came in strange flashes—hallucinations that danced on the edge of memory and nightmare. I saw Aaron’s face, sharp and furious. Then soft and pleading. I heard my mother humming lullabies from years I’d long buried. I felt my brother's hand curled around my wrist—not cruel, but the way he used to walk me across the street when I was five?.It was all fake, of course. I didn't have a brother. They were Illusions c

VENUSThe room was a tomb. Still. Stale. Stifling.Thicker now, the scent of rot and rust hung like a noose around my lungs. The air didn’t just sit, it suffocated. Each breath tasted of decay and metal, and each time I exhaled, it felt like a small surrender.But I wasn’t dead.Not yet.The ropes had left my wrists in ribbons. Torn skin, crusted blood, veins screaming from lack of circulation. My ankles weren’t better. Swollen. Purpled. As if they were slowly forgetting they belonged to a body still alive.Food had been dumped hours ago—greasy, wrapped in a crumpled paper bag that smelled more like oil than anything edible. No water. Nothing clean. But when I was sure no one was watching, I forced a few bites down. Not because I wanted to survive. But because I refused to die like this. Not here. Not in this dungeon made of mold and madness.I curled onto my side—knees pulled to my chest, back to the wall. That was the only position that didn’t scream.That’s when I felt it.The chai