All Chapters of Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss : Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

VENUS The weight of Aaron’s words still hung in the air like smoke. You bleed for it. You prove it. And then, impossibly, Dorian Sinclair lowered himself into a chair at Rosemary’s table. Not at the head, not in any place of prominence—just the far edge, a shadow among the gold light. It was wrong. Surreal. This man, who had been specter and serpent for as long as I’d known his name, was suddenly flesh and bone, seated beneath the same chandelier where we’d laughed over lemon tart just minutes ago. Aaron’s hand never left mine, a tether and a warning. His grip was iron, but I knew it wasn’t just fury. It was fear. Fear that letting Dorian close, even for one night, would undo everything he’d bled to build. The silence stretched until it cracked. Connor whistled low, leaning back in his chair. “Well, this is awkward.” Sabine’s glare cut across the table. “Not funny, Connor.” His grin faltered. He reached for her hand again, but her eyes stayed locked on her brother. On Dorian.

VENUS Morning found me soft. For once, the city outside didn’t wake me with horns and sirens, but with the slow rustle of sheets and the scent of coffee drifting through the penthouse. I blinked into the spill of golden light cutting through the curtains, half-expecting to see the storm in Aaron’s eyes still lingering from last night. But instead, he was there, sitting at the edge of the bed with a tray balanced in his hands. Eggs, fruit sliced with surgical precision, coffee black for him, tea pale and sweet for me. And, as always now, my vitamins in a neat line beside the plate, like jewels instead of pills. “You’re spoiling me,” I murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. His mouth curved, faintly. “Good. You should get used to it.” I sat up against the pillows, tugging the blanket closer around me as he set the tray on my lap. His eyes lingered, shadow and warmth tangled together, as if memorizing every movement I made. Like even the way I buttered toast might matter in

VENUS The line went dead silent for a beat, and then: “Hello again, my dearest Venus.” My chest locked. The voice was smooth, like honey poured over glass, sharp underneath. Gerald. My fingers tightened around the phone. “What do you want?” A soft chuckle slid down the line, sending ice through my veins. “Straight to the point. You sound just like him when you’re cornered. But I don’t want anything complicated. Just… a trade.” Every hair on my arms stood up. “A trade?” “I have Sabine.” His words were delivered like a casual fact, as though he were talking about holding a glass of wine. “She’s alive, for now. She’ll stay that way if you listen.” “Please—” The word scraped out of me before I could stop it. “Ah, ah, ah.” His interruption was sharp, slicing. “Don’t beg me yet, Venus. Save it for when you need it.” I could hear my pulse in my ears. My throat ached with unshed tears, but I forced myself to stay still, to listen. A click, then the sharp hiss of static,

VENUS My stomach lurched the moment Gerald’s lips curved into that wicked, knowing smile. His words hung in the air like a noose tightening around my throat. “Oh, how rude of me. Congratulations on the twins, by the way. You were not nice not telling me, but I’ll be the bigger person.” The air fled my lungs. My blood went cold, my knees weakened. Twins. He knew. God, he knew. The knowledge in his voice was deliberate, a weapon. My hands flew instinctively to my stomach, as if I could shield the fragile lives inside me from his gaze, from his malice. Gerald’s eyes followed the motion, gleaming with cruel delight. He laughed, sharp and jagged, the sound ricocheting off the damp concrete walls. “You are such a whore,” he spat, venom dripping from every syllable. “You’re carrying his babies. Aaron’s. Of all men, his. Do you think I’d ever let that stand? Do you think I’d let you create something with him when you were meant to belong to me?” Fear knifed through me, sharper tha

VENUS The world spun sideways when Aaron moved. One second Gerald’s smirk split the room like a knife; the next, Aaron was on him—a dark blur of violence tearing through the shadows. Their bodies collided with a sound that didn’t belong to men but to war itself: bone against bone, rage against rot. The crash echoed through the warehouse, rattling the single dangling bulb until its weak glow trembled across the filth-stained walls. I tried to push myself up, palms slipping against the cold concrete, but my body screamed in protest. My stomach throbbed, hot waves of pain pulsing outward like someone had lit a fire inside me. Still, I forced myself upright, pressing my back to a rusting pillar for support. My arms instinctively curled protectively over my belly, a shield that felt pitifully small against the storm unfolding before me. Aaron was relentless. A wolf unleashed. He drove Gerald back with a savagery that shook the air, fists finding flesh again and again. Each strike was mo