Chapter 245
CMWMBB 47
VENUS
I knew-logically-that it would come to this.
I had known the moment Andrea slid that folder across the table. The moment I opened my mouth on camera and let words do what weapons couldn’t. The moment I chose Iris over everything else, including the man I loved.
Knowing didn’t make it hurt less.
The gate loomed ahead and my legs kept moving even as my chest caved in. I didn’t make it far before the tears came—hot, humiliating, and unstoppable. They slid down my face without permission, blurring the world until everything looked submerged.
Aaron would understand one day, I told myself.
He would. He had to.
Because if he didn’t-if all of this ended with him believing I had simply turned into something cruel and unrecognizable-then I had destroyed two lives instead of saving one.
I wiped my face roughly with the heel of my hand and kept walking.
Behind me, I heard footsteps, measured and trained.
“Mrs. Sinclair,” one of the guards called carefully. “We’ll escort you p>
“Don’t,” I snapped, spinning around. My voice cracked, but steel`underpinned it. “Do not follow me p>
He hesitated. They always did when Aaron wasn’t the one giving orders.
“I said don’t,” I repeated, sharper now. “I don’t want anyone with me p>
They exchanged glances. One lifted a hand toward his earpiece.
“If you take one more step,” I said quietly, “I will make this uglier than it already is p>
That did it.
They stopped.
I turned back toward the gate, my hands shaking so badly I shoved them into my coat pockets just to keep from seeing it. The world narrowed to the sound of my breathing and the pounding of my heart.
I didn’t know where I was going.
That terrified me more than being told to leave.
I had houses. Apartments. Properties scattered across cities and countries-some mine, some ours. Places with views, staff, histories layered into the walls.
None of them felt reachable.
1/4
The gate began to open.
At first, I thought it was for me.
Then headlights swept across the drive.
A car pulled through the opening, slow and deliberate, cutting me off before I could step outside. The engine cut. A door opened.
“Venus p>
I stopped walking.
-really
Colton got out, his face already set in that familiar mix of concern and restraint. He took one look at me- looked-and swore under his breath. 1
“Get in,” he said.
I didn’t argue.
I just moved.
My legs felt disconnected from the rest of me, like I was watching myself from a distance as I climbed into the passenger seat. The door closed. The car started again. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he drove us away from the house.
Away from Aaron.
Away from the life I had just detonated.
I folded forward, arms wrapping around myself, shoulders shaking hard enough that my teeth clicked together. I tried to quiet it. I failed.
“He hates me,” I said hoarsely.
Colton’s jaw tightened. He kept his eyes on the road. “No, he doesn’t p>
I laughed a broken, disbelieving sound. “You didn’t see him. I did. He hates me p>
“He’s angry,” Colton said carefully. “He’s hurt. That’s not the same thing p>
“Yes, it is,” I shot back. “Not for him. When Aaron closes a door, he doesn’t reopen it. He doesn’t forgive what he decides is unforgivable p>
Colton glanced at me then, just for a second. Something in his expression—hesitation, maybe-slipped past my bandwidth to register.
“Venus,” he began, like he was about to tell me something important.
I shook my head violently. “Don’t. Please don’t try to fix this right now p>
He went quiet.
The city slid past in streaks of light and shadow. Neon signs blurred. Traffic thinned. The world grew quieter the
2/4
farther we went, like peeling away layers of noise until only the essentials remained.
After a while, he pulled into an underground garage beneath a low, nondescript building. Concrete. Fluorescent lights. No doorman. No signage worth remembering.
Remote and intentional.
“This is one of the safe apartments,” he said as he parked. “It’s clean. Off the grid. No staff. I’ve used it before p>
I nodded numbly.
Inside, the apartment was sparse but livable. Neutral walls. Minimal furniture. A single lamp casting a soft pool of light in the living room. It smelled faintly of detergent and nothing else-no history, no memories.
“I’ll stay nearby,” he said. “Just in case p>
“I don’t want anyone nearby,” I replied.
He hesitated. “Venus p>
“I just want to be alone,” I said, more firmly now. “Please p>
He studied my face, clearly wanting to argue. Then he nodded once.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “But call me if p>
“I won’t,” I interrupted. “But thank you p>
That earned me a long look. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then turned and left without another word.
The door shut behind him with a soft click.
Silence rushed in.
I stood there for a long time, unmoving, listening to the faint hum of the building, the distant sound of a car passing outside. The absence pressed in from all sides.
I sank onto the couch and curled inward, coat still on, hands knotted together in my lap.
She’ll call, I thought.
Andrea always called.
I stared at the phone on the coffee table, my stomach twisting tighter with every minute that passed. I had done everything she’d asked. I had burned the bridge, salted the ground, and stood in the ashes on national television.
Now give me my daughter back.
The hours crept by.
I replayed Aaron’s words again and again, each one finding a new place to bruise. Beyond redemption. I don’t recognize you. Leave my house.
I pressed my palm flat against my chest, like I could hold my heart together by force.
3/4
This is for Iris, I told myself.
This is for Iris.
It had to be enough.
Midnight passed without a call.
Then twelve-thirty.
Then one.
The waiting became unbearable, a taut wire stretched inside me, vibrating with every imagined outcome. What if this was the part where Andrea vanished? What if this was the part where she asked for more? What if—
The doorbell rang.
I jerked upright, my heart slamming so hard it made me dizzy.
Colton. He must’ve changed his mind. He must’ve come back.
I stood too quickly, vision darkening at the edges, a rush of dizziness forcing me to brace one hand against the wall until the room steadied.
I didn’t bother with the peephole.
I crossed the short distance to the door on unsteady legs and pulled it open.
And froze.
The last person I expected to see-especially not tonight, not after everything I’d said and done-stood in the hallway.
For a second, my mind refused to accept the shape of him. The broad shoulders. The familiar stillness. The way he occupied space without trying.
My breath left me in a single, broken exhale.
“Aaron?” 2
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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.