Chapter 179
Chapter 180
VENUS
The car ride back to the penthouse was a silence that pressed down on my skin like rain before a thunderstorm.
No music, no words. Just the hum of the engine and the faint rhythm of the city outside-New York never sleeping, even when we wanted to. Streetlights slid over Aaron’s face in pale flashes, cutting his jaw into sharper lines, hardening eyes that already looked carved from shadow.
His hand rested on mine the entire time. Not loose, not relaxed….just there, steady, as if letting go meant surrendering something neither of us could afford. His thumb traced idle circles against my knuckles, not tender but restless, almost impatient. A habit, I realized. He wasn’t trying to soothe me, he was grounding himself.
I didn’t speak. I knew better. Sometimes silence was a shield. Sometimes it was the only language Aaron Sinclair understood.
59
By the time we reached the penthouse, the quiet had burrowed into my bones. He didn’t release me until we were inside, doors locked, the city muted beneath thick glass.
I drifted toward the bathroom without a word. My body was humming from the night, from Dorian’s unexpected intrusion, from Sabine’s pain echoing like broken glass against marble walls. I needed the heat of the shower to wash it off, to strip the tension clinging to my skin like a second layer.
The water steamed, hotter than I probably should’ve let it, but I stood beneath it anyway, head tilted back, eyes closed. It didn’t melt the weight in my chest.
When I came out wrapped in a towel, my hair damp and heavy down my back, Aaron was waiting.
Not on the bed, not sprawled like a man finally unwinding. No, he was at the counter near the window, a glass of water in hand, and next to it, a small tray with my vitamins lined up in neat precision.
I froze for a second, the towel clutched tight around me. My throat went tight, traitorous. Because it was such a simple thing. Pills, water. But the way he’d set it up, the silent declaration that he was watching every detail for me, for us, it unraveled me more than any fight, any kiss, any vow.
Wordlessly, I walked over and took them. His eyes never left me, storm-dark, unreadable. I swallowed each pill with the water, the cool slide against my throat grounding me in a way the shower hadn’t managed.
I set the glass down. My voice came out low, softer than I intended. “Talk to me p>
For a beat, nothing. He just stared, the silence stretching sharp and taut. Then, finally, his chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh, and he obeyed.
“I’ve never had a vendetta against Dorian,” Aaron said, voice rough like gravel dragged across stone. “Not really. I didn’t care enough to. He wasn’t worth my focus until he decided to make himself my opponent p>
I stayed quiet, listening, because that’s what he needed.
20:46 Wed, Jan 14
Chapter 180
59
Aaron’s hand flexed against the counter. His reflection in the glass looked harder than the man standing in front of me, sharper, more dangerous. “When he started gunning for my position-trying to undermine me, trying to cut deals behind my back-that’s when I took him seriously. Until then? He was background noise. A spoiled ghost gnawing at the edges of a family that barely acknowledged him p>
His jaw ticked. His eyes slid to me, then back to the skyline. “It’s… easy, in a way, for me to give him a chance now. To sit across from him and pretend we’re two men who can reconcile. Because I don’t carry the same scars Sabine does p>
There it was-the fracture beneath the stone. His sister’s pain was louder than his own bitterness.
“She’s the one he abandoned,” Aaron continued, quieter now. “Ignored. Let bleed without lifting a finger. She doesn’t owe him forgiveness. Hell, she doesn’t owe him her voice. And then suddenly he walks back into our lives, sits at the table, and says he’s sorry? Just like that p>
He turned then, eyes locking on mine. Sharp, unyielding, demanding I answer a question he hadn’t asked aloud.
“Why now? Why suddenly grow a conscience?” His mouth curved bitterly. “If resentment kept him away for so long, why break it tonight of all nights? An apology doesn’t erase years of silence. An apology doesn’t put flesh back on bones starved for a brother’s love p>
My heart squeezed. I wanted to reach for him, but I stayed still, letting his words pour out unchecked.
“I can’t tell if he’s genuine,” Aaron admitted. “Or if this is another game. Another way to carve at what I’ve built, to get closer only to twist the knife later. He’s always been good at that-smiling while he cuts p>
I exhaled slowly. “Do you want my opinion p>
He arched a brow. “When don’t I p>
“He looked ashamed tonight,” I said carefully. “Not calculated. Not smug. Just… raw. Like he’d been holding those words in so long they were rotting inside him. Shame doesn’t come easy to men like Dorian. That doesn’t mean he’s absolved. But it does mean something broke in him p>
Aaron studied me for a long moment. “You’re too generous, Venus p>
I gave a small smile. “And you’re too harsh p>
That earned the faintest twitch of his lips-something between amusement and exhaustion. He pushed away from the counter and walked toward me, slow, deliberate. The kind of pace that always made me shiver, because it wasn’t casual. It was command.
When he stopped in front of me, his hand lifted, fingers brushing damp strands of hair from my cheek. “You always want to believe the best in people.” His voice softened. “Even when they don’t deserve it p>
“And you always want to believe the worst,” I countered.
“Because it keeps us alive p>
We held each other’s gaze, locked in that eternal push and pull-my softness, his steel.
20:46 Wed, Jan 14
Chapter 180
59
“I don’t know if he’s genuine,” Aaron said at last, his thumb lingering on my jaw. “But Sabine’s pain? That’s real. That’s the part that matters p>
I nodded. “She’ll need time p>
“She’ll need me,” he corrected, his voice low and certain. “And I won’t fail her again p>
My throat tightened. “You didn’t fail her p>
His eyes burned into mine. “Didn’t I p>
I didn’t answer, because in that moment, nothing I said would untangle the guilt wound tight inside him.
So I just leaned into his hand, let silence bridge the gap words couldn’t.
But beneath it all, a coil of dread twisted in my stomach.
It had been there for days now-a whisper, a shiver, a bad feeling I couldn’t shake. Like standing on a dock while the water below churned, knowing something enormous swam just beneath the surface, waiting to rise.
I didn’t tell Aaron. I couldn’t. He was already wound so tight from Dorian, from Sabine, from protecting us both. Adding my irrational dread would only sharpen his edges until he bled.
So I swallowed it.
I pressed a kiss to his palm instead, and when his arms finally pulled me in, caging me against his chest, I let myself sink into him. His heartbeat thundered steady beneath my ear, an anchor against the storm clawing at the edges of my mind.
Tomorrow, I promised myself. Tomorrow would be lighter.
But I was wrong.
Because tomorrow, I’d find out exactly why my chest had been tightening for days. Why every breath felt like waiting for something to crack.
And when it came, no amount of vitamins, no amount of whispered reassurances, would be enough to shield me from it.
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20:46 Wed, Jan 14
Ruby Walker
Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby’s writing style is bold and irresistible—perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.