All Chapters of Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss : Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

And just like that, we’ve reached the end. This book has been such a journey—messy, emotional and thrilling—and I’m so grateful you chose to walk through every chapter with me. Thank you for reading, for rooting for these characters, and for letting them take up space in your heart. If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a review and recommending it to others. Your support means the world, and it helps more readers discover this little universe we’ve built together. It’s bittersweet to say goodbye here, but the good news is......I’m not done yet. My new story, Ashes Don’t Bleed, will begin updating next week, and I’d love for you to join me there. Also watch out for the Epilogue and Bonus chapters. Until then, thank you again for being part of this journey. You’ve made it unforgettable. ♥

VENUS “Mom! George is climbing the tree again!” Iris’ voice rang out from the backyard, that familiar mix of indignation and triumph that only a tattletale seven-year-old could master. “Iris!” George hissed from the branches above, trying to shush his sister before she could get him in trouble. I lifted my sunglasses and squinted toward the jacaranda tree at the far end of the yard. There he was—my daring little monkey, all scraped knees and wild curls—perched halfway up, grinning as if gravity didn’t apply to him. “George Anselm Sinclair,” I called, fighting a smile. “Get down. Now.” “But, Mom—” “Now.” He groaned dramatically. “Okay, okay, I’m coming down.” He started his careful descent, his sneakers scraping bark, while Iris sat cross-legged on the picnic blanket, doodling furiously in her drawing pad. The twins—seven years old now—were the perfect mixture of chaos and wonder. They were growing too fast; I swore I could see it happening in real time. A tiny giggle caught

VENUSBy the time Colton’s car pulled into the driveway, the night had turned cruelly quiet. That kind of stillness that doesn’t soothe, it presses against your chest, makes you aware of your own heartbeat. I stood at the window watching his headlights cut across the driveway, streaks of white against the dark.He didn’t even bother to knock. The door swung open, and he was there — hair damp from the drizzle outside, eyes wild, breath shallow like he’d run the entire way.“Venus.”The sound of my name almost broke me.He crossed the room in quick, uneven strides, the kind you make when you’re fighting panic. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My voice was somewhere buried beneath the weight pressing on my lungs.“Connor’s on his way,” he said, already pulling out his phone. “He’s trying to reach Aaron too.”My throat tightened. “Has he… has he spoken to him?”Colton shook his head, jaw tight. “No. But he said he’ll keep trying.”I nodded faintly, wrapping

VENUSMorning came before I was ready for it.The pale light pushed its way through the curtains, brushing the walls with that uncertain grey that never knows if it belongs to night or day. I must have drifted in and out of sleep for an hour at a time, hearing footsteps in the hallway, the murmur of Sabine’s voice, Colton’s low replies. Every sound reminded me that something had cracked open in my life, and we were waiting to see how deep the break went.By the time I finally left the bed, the house was already awake. The smell of coffee and butter drifted up from the kitchen, and the faint laughter of the children carried from downstairs. For a moment I stood at the top of the stairs and listened to it. The sound was too normal.Colton was in the sitting room when I came down. He had changed into a clean shirt, his hair still damp from a quick shower. The morning paper lay folded on the table, but he wasn’t reading it—just staring past it, his hand curled loosely around a cup of coff

VENUS When the door slammed, I barely knew what I was doing. My hand found the lock and turned it before I even realized I’d moved. The quiet that followed was absolute—thick, suffocating, and heavy with the sound of my own heartbeat.I pressed my back against the door and slid down until I was sitting on the carpet. My chest hurt, the kind of ache that isn’t sharp but deep, spreading slowly through the ribs until it feels like breathing itself has become a burden.Everything inside me trembled. Not from anger—though maybe that was part of it—but from disbelief.I had told myself I was ready to hear the truth, whatever it was. But I hadn’t expected silence to hurt this much. His silence.I’d seen it in his eyes—confusion, guilt, fear—but not deceit. That should have comforted me. Instead, it terrified me. Because if he wasn’t lying, then what kind of truth was he living in?I covered my face with my hands. The air smelled faintly of the cedar polish from the shelves and the old paper