Chapter 191
Chapter 192
VENUS
The world had teeth.
That was the only way I could explain it. One bite at a time, it stripped away everything I thought was untouchable. First my safety. Then my family. Then Aaron-my anchor, my impossible, my everything- reduced to stillness on a bed that reeked of antiseptic and fear.
And now? Now the empire that had seemed invincible, the Sinclair dynasty carved from money, intimidation, and secrets… was bleeding out across every headline.
Caroline Sinclair and Gerald-names that once carried weight, power, menace-now dragged through courthouse steps in shackles. The media feasted. The cameras were merciless. Every station, every paper, every whispering mouth wanted the details. Wanted the rot exposed. And God, there was rot. Call logs, surveillance footage, financial trails. An empire decayed from within, its walls eaten hollow long before the collapse.
The Caroline Sinclair and Gerald Marlowe weren’t royalty anymore. They were spectacle.
I should have felt relief. Maybe even triumph. But all I felt was hollow.
Because the one person I wanted to share that victory with, the one man who had fought tooth and nail to shield me from their venom, lay unconscious, silent and unmoving.
And me? I was alive, yes. Breathing, yes. But living? No. Not really.
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Rosemary had insisted I come stay with her. At first, I resisted. I wanted to remain in the Penthouse and the hospital, chained to Aaron’s side like the monitors that tracked his pulse. But she wouldn’t hear of it. She gathered me and my swelling stomach into her arms like she had the authority of a mother I’d lost too long
ago.
“You need rest, Venus,” she’d said, her voice gentle but unyielding. “The babies need you steady. And Aaron…Aaron would want me to make sure you’re cared for p>
I hadn’t argued after that. Not because I agreed, but because she said Aaron would want. And those three words broke me down in ways nothing else could.
So I went.
Rosemary’s home was warm, a stark contrast to the sterile halls of the hospital. Sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, the scent of rosemary (the herb, not the woman) clinging to the air. She’d prepared Aaron’s room for me-soft linens, walls painted a gentle cream, a cradle already waiting though the twins weren’t due
for months.
Safe, comfortable and secure.
It was thoughtful of her.
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Chapter 192
And yet, I felt displaced. Like I was an intruder in a life that didn’t belong to me. My home was with Aaron. My place was at his side. This, this was a waiting room I couldn’t leave.
Every morning, I rose before the sun. Rosemary tried to coax me into lingering, into breakfast or tea or conversation, but I always shook my head, slipped out quietly, and returned to the hospital after she forces me to eat and take my vitamins.
She really was Aaron Sinclair’s mother.
Going to the hospital became a ritual. My lifeline, it kept me sane.
I would sit by Aaron’s bed, take his hand in mine, and speak as if he could hear me. As if my words could thread their way into whatever dreamscape he was trapped in, pulling him closer to me.
Some days, I told him about the news.
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“Caroline looked terrible today,” I whispered one morning, tracing the lines of his knuckles with my thumb. “Her trial started with cameras flashing, reporters screaming. You should have seen her face, Aaron. Still clinging to her pride, even in handcuffs. Like she couldn’t believe the world had the audacity to see her as anything less than untouchable. But the world saw. Everyone saw. And they’ll never forget p>
Other days, I told him about the business.
“Dorian’s stepping in for you,” I murmured another afternoon, my cheek resting against his arm. “Can you believe it? Him, of all people. And Connor’s working with him. They’re actually… good together. They don’t say it, but I see it. They respect each other, even if they’d rather eat glass than admit it. You should be proud of them, Aaron. They’re keeping your empire steady until you come back to claim it p>
Sometimes, I told him about the twins.
“They kicked today,” I said softly one evening, pressing his hand against my stomach. “Both of them. Like they’re fighting for space already. I think they’re stubborn, just like you. Or maybe like me. God help us if it’s both. But they’re strong, Aaron. They’re growing, safe, waiting for you. You have to wake up. You have to see them p>
Other days when Rosemary would come pick me up she’d make some jokes about him taking from her and he shouldn’t be like her. He can’t afford to miss three years of his children’s lives.
And always-always-I told him I missed him.
“I don’t know how to do this without you,” I confessed one night, the weight of exhaustion pressing on me. “Every breath feels borrowed. Every step feels wrong. I need you, Aaron. I need your voice, your strength, your impossible stubbornness. Come back to me. Please. Please p>
Outside, the world spun in chaos.
Caroline’s trial was brutal-every sordid detail paraded for the cameras. Her alliance with Gerald, her contempt for me, her betrayal of her own daughter. The prosecutors painted her as a woman drunk on control, willing to sacrifice anyone to keep her throne. And Gerald? He was venom wrapped in cowardice, spilling names and secrets in a desperate bid to cut his sentence. The empire’s rot laid bare for all to see.
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Chapter 192
Dorian bore the brunt of it.
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The cameras followed him, too, waiting for a reaction. Waiting for him to falter. But he never did. He walked into the office each morning, shoulders straight, jaw set, eyes like storm clouds daring anyone to question his authority. He was ice in a world on fire.
Sabine was protected from it all. She was recovering nicely.
Connor was Dorian’s foil-sharp, efficient and always two steps ahead with damage control. They clashed, yes, but it was productive, friction sparking into results. I watched from afar, surprised, even a little proud. Aaron would have been, too.
But none of it mattered. Not really.
Because when I lay in bed at night, the cradle empty beside me, my belly heavy with life, my hands reaching for a warmth that wasn’t there, all I felt was absence.
Aaron’s absence.
One night, after a particularly brutal day at the courthouse, I lingered longer at his bedside. The lights were dim, the hallways hushed, the world momentarily stilled. I pressed my lips to his knuckles, my tears soaking into the sheets.
“They asked me to testify,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “To talk about what Gerald did to me. To us. I couldn’t. Not yet. Not without you there. I felt like a coward, but I couldn’t stand in front of all those eyes, not while you’re like this p>
I squeezed his hand tighter.
“I don’t know if you can hear me. Sometimes I think I’m losing my mind, talking to you like this. But then I remember what you’d say-how you’d tell me to hold steady, to fight. So I’ll keep fighting. For you. For them. For us p>
The machines hummed. Beep. Beep. Beep. Steady. Cruel. Hopeful.
I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against his arm, and let myself believe—just for a moment—that he squeezed my hand back.
Days blurred into weeks. The trials raged. The empire cracked. Rosemary’s home became a refuge and a prison all at once, Connor and Dorian kept the world spinning. Sabine found solace in counseling, her smile tentative but growing. The twins thrived in my belly, their kicks a reminder that life was stubborn, persistent,
relentless.
And me?
I kept my ritual.
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Every morning, every night, I returned to Aaron. I spoke. I confessed. I clung to him with every word, every touch, every vow.
Because as much as the world tried to remind me that everything had changed, one truth burned steady, unyielding.
He was still mine.
And I wasn’t letting go.
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.