Semua Bab Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss : Bab 211 - Bab 220

VENUS The footage confirmed what we feared. A figure dressed entirely in black had crossed the eastern perimeter of the house, moved with deliberate precision, and thrown the stone through the children’s window before vanishing into the dark. He evaded every camera except one, his face obscured, his movement swift and unhesitating. It was not a spontaneous act. It was a message, one that left the air in the room heavy and cold.I could not sleep that night. Every shadow in the hallway seemed to move, every sound from the wind carried menace. My children were no longer safe here. The house that once held laughter and comfort now felt like a cage with invisible cracks. When morning came, I told Aaron what I had already decided. “They have to leave,” I said. “I will not take another chance.”Aaron did not argue. Connor, too, agreed without hesitation. “It is the right call,” he said. “Rosemary’s estate is far from the city, and we can reinforce it.” Plans were drawn before dawn. Securit

VenusWhen I came to, the world felt wrong. Too bright, too clean. The air smelled of antiseptic and something faintly metallic. My body was a map of pain—dull, deep aches radiating from places I couldn’t quite locate. It was like waking up after being hit by a truck, or maybe a memory I wasn’t ready to face yet.My eyelids fluttered open. The ceiling above me was white, humming softly with fluorescent light. Machines blinked on my right. A slow, rhythmic beeping tethered me to the present, to proof that I was still alive.I tried to move, but my limbs didn’t respond the way they should. My mouth was dry, my throat a desert. The sound that came out of me was barely human—more a broken rasp than a word.Immediately, a shadow fell over me."Venus."The voice was low, broken, and utterly familiar. Aaron.He crossed the room so fast I barely saw him move. His eyes were bloodshot, jaw tight, like he’d forgotten how to unclench it. The moment his gaze found mine, something in his expressio

AARONThe accusation in her voice—“What is going on? And who the hell is doing this, Aaron?”—was a scalpel cutting straight through the fragile control I’d been holding together. She wasn’t just asking for information; she was demanding an explanation for the sheer, unrelenting terror that had stalked our family for the past week—terror that had culminated in a violent ambush and the loss of our child.I took a slow, measured breath and pulled my hands away from her. I needed to move—to put space between myself and her pain—because if I stayed locked in it, I’d lose the focus I needed to bring Iris back.I crossed to the window. The blinds were drawn tight against the intrusive daylight, but a thin blade of light cut through, revealing faint dust motes drifting in the air.Who the hell is doing this?That was the question—the cold, rotting core of all this chaos. I was a man who had built an empire through ruthlessness and precision, who’d survived the shark tank of global business fo

AARONLucas Derrane’s name was barely out of his mouth before the metallic taste of anger hit my tongue — cold, measured, razor-edged. I leaned back just enough for him to feel the space between us shrink, the weight of my attention locking him in place. His breath hitched.“You staged an interaction to make it look like I was cheating on my wife,” I said.Lucas’s shoulders snapped tight like a man bracing for a blow. “I didn’t stage anything,” he blurted. “I—I was paid to put some kind of substance in the air conditioning. That’s it.”Connor’s jaw flexed beside me. Colton didn’t move, but I felt him lean forward — the subtle shift of a predator catching a scent.I kept my voice level. “Who was your partner?”“P-partner?” His confusion looked real — but fear often did.“There were two of you in the footage,” I said. “Don’t test me, Lucas.”He flinched. “I swear, I don’t know who he is. They said someone would meet me in the lobby and hand me the package. We didn’t talk. We just plante

VENUS I woke to the soft hum of machines and the faint antiseptic chill that seeped into every inch of the hospital room. For a moment, I didn’t move. I just stared at the ceiling — too white, too bright, too empty — and tried to make sense of the pounding behind my eyes. My body felt heavy, thick with the sedative Aaron had insisted on. I remembered fighting it, begging him not to let them put me under. I remembered his voice — low, apologetic, breaking somewhere around the edges — as the world blurred and dissolved. Now, the world was painfully sharp again. A soft snore drew my eyes sideways. Sabine sat hunched in the chair beside my bed, her head resting awkwardly on her folded arms. Her curls spilled over her elbows, rising and falling with her breaths. She must have fought sleep until her body gave out. Her hand was still on the side of my mattress, like she’d been holding it. But Aaron wasn’t here. The space he’d occupied last night — the shadow in the corner, the