All Chapters of Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

VENUSThe weight of the night pressed heavy on my chest, even though the champagne glass in my hand trembled more from nerves than alcohol.The air shifted like a storm rolling in. I didn’t need to see them to know who had arrived, I felt it. The ripple spread through the hall like a current, whispers sparking until every head turned.Richard. Caroline. And Dorian.They entered like royalty, a glittering trio who didn’t just walk into a room, they conquered it. Every jewel was too bright, every seam too sharp, each step choreographed to command.But my eyes snapped only to him.Dorian.He broke from his parents and strode toward us. Aaron’s hand at the small of my back went rigid, his body taut like a drawn bow. He didn’t glance at me, not once. His gaze was locked forward, cold steel fixed on his brother.Dorian stopped before us, smile bright, practiced. “Wow. Venus, looking good as new.” His eyes lingered too long, deliberate. “I was beginning to lose hope in this one ever finding

VENUSThe crowd parted around us as if sensing the shift in the air, whispers clinging to sequined gowns and crisp tuxedos like smoke. Aaron’s grip at my back was steady, grounding, but I could feel the sharpness in his stance—the coil of a predator forced into patience.And then Caroline Sinclair opened her mouth.“Aaron.” Her voice was venom laced with honey, the kind of sweetness meant to cut, not soothe. “What an unpleasant surprise. Your presence is certainly not missed within the Sinclair group.” Her eyes, sharp as daggers, flicked over me with a disdainful sweep before pinning back on him. “And whatever you’re scheming, you’d best stop. Because I know you are.”The words weren’t just spoken, they were meant to bruise. Caroline always knew how to weaponize civility, how to drip poison from a porcelain smile. She leaned into it now, her chin tilted with practiced grace, as if this were nothing but polite conversation.Aaron didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. His response came like silk

VENUSAaron’s eyes devoured me. slow, possessive and reverent. Like every inch of bare skin was holy scripture he’d been starving to read.His hand came up, fingers grazing my collarbone before sliding lower, tracing the dip between my breasts, dragging fire in their wake. He cupped me, thumb teasing, and the sound he made—low, guttural, worship disguised as sin—made my knees tremble.“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he rasped, voice breaking on the edge of hunger. “Do you even know what you do to me? How long I’ve wanted to tear this façade down and have you like this—only mine?”His words sank into me like nails, anchoring me to him.My lips parted, but no words came. Just a shaky exhale, a plea without sound.Aaron’s mouth curved in a dangerous smile, and then he was on me again. Claiming my lips, biting, sucking, devouring me like he was desperate to erase every lie, every mile of distance that had ever stood between us.When he pulled back, his forehead pressed to mine, his voice w

VENUS He kissed the top of my head. “Because you’re mine. And because you deserve it. Both can be true.” --- Later, in bed, I curled into him instinctively. Spooning into his chest like a cat finding its warmest corner. His arm was heavy around me, his breath steady in my hair. My body still ached, used and wrung out, but here—in this cocoon of warmth—I felt safe. It was in that safety that my lips betrayed me, speaking words I rarely let escape. “I keep thinking about the cottage.” I felt his arm stiffen slightly but he didn’t speak. He knew better. My therapist had told him not to press, not to demand, and Aaron… Aaron listened when it mattered. So I kept going. I knew I talked about her betrayal before but it still hurt deeply. “When I realized my mother drugged me, I… it was worse than the cuffs, worse than Gerald’s hands. Because it meant she chose it. She chose to hand me over. Not protect me. Not even hesitate. She even sold me out to Dorian.” My throat tigh

VENUS The stench hit me before the sight did. Copper. Old pennies. Sharp, metallic, suffocating. My throat constricted, bile already clawing its way up. Colton’s hands were still on my arms, but I wrenched against them, frantic, desperate. He didn’t move fast enough, didn’t block me well enough, and my eyes slipped past his frame into the apartment that used to be my home. And then the world cracked open. Martha was there. Or what was left of her. Her body slumped against the battered couch we’d sat on a thousand times. Her throat—god, her throat. Slashed wide, jagged, raw, a grotesque smile carved in blood. Her hands clutched at something—a paper, now soaked and scarlet, the edges curling from damp. But it wasn’t just her. The wall behind her was scrawled, smeared, painted in a message that made the room spin beneath my feet. “I did you a favor, sweetheart.” Written in what could only be her blood. My stomach rebelled. I staggered sideways, choking, and doubled over. The