Chapter 230
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AARON
The second I stepped out of the bedroom, the house felt… wrong.
Too quiet for the kind of hurricane that had just torn through it.
The overhead lights hummed softly-annoyingly-like they could sense the pounding in my skull and wanted to contribute. The sedative haze Venus put me under hadn’t fully cleared; my head still throbbed with every movement, an echo of her words replaying like a cracked record in my mind.
You ruin everything… Aaron…
That one cut deeper than the bullet that nearly killed me.
I closed the bedroom door gently behind me, swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth. There wasn’t time-not to think, not to process the wreckage she’d left behind in my chest. Iris was still missing. Venus was unraveling. And whatever she’d walked into tonight… it had her speaking with a voice that wasn’t hers.
I moved down the hallway, my steps quiet out of instinct. The kids. I needed to be sure they were okay.
Connor and Rick’s voices drifted from the living room-low, tense, edged with urgency-but I ignored them for now. My children came first. Always.
I pushed open their door slowly.
And the sight hit me square in the sternum.
George was curled up on Sabine’s bed now, his tiny body wrapped protectively around his sister like he knew the world outside their room was cracking. Sabine slept with her cheek on his shoulder, one hand resting on his chest, her curls spread around her like a halo.
They shouldn’t have to brace for impact at this age. They shouldn’t have to sleep holding onto each other like that.
I stepped quietly inside, pulled Sabine’s blanket higher, then reached for another throw from the rocking chair and draped it over George. He tightened his arms around his sister in his sleep.
“Good boy,” I whispered under my breath.
Not that he heard me.
But God, I hoped he felt it.
I lingered for a moment, just watching them breathe: steady, unbroken and blissfully unaware.
If Venus hadn’t come home… if something worse had happened…
No.
I shut that thought down before it could bloom.
Nothing was going to touch them.
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Not my enemies.
Not my past.
Not even the darkness swallowing my wife whole.
I closed the door quietly and made my way to the kitchen. My headache clawed at the inside of my skull, sharp enough to make the corners of my vision pulse. Whatever she’d slipped into my drink was wearing off too slowly —or maybe I was just too angry to let my body recover.
I grabbed a glass and filled it at the sink, bracing myself against the counter.
Cold water.
Deep breath.
Hold the hell together.
But the memory hit again-her flinching from me like I was a weapon, her words slicing through me with surgical precision, her eyes glassy with fear or fury or something I couldn’t name.
Something she’d never shown me before.
I took a long drink, but the water did nothing for the heat crawling beneath my skin.
Footsteps approached. Slow, heavy and hesitant.
Connor.
“Tracker’s active,” he said as he stepped into the doorway, voice low. “Rick traced her path. From when she left p>
My fingers tightened around the glass.
“Where?” I asked, turning slowly to face him.
“Got it,” Rick called from the living room. “Tracker shows she drove out past Highway 12, stopped for fifteen minutes by the river, then continued into Cedar Ridge. Cabin sector. Stayed there. No movement for at least an
hour p>
My stomach dropped.
Cedar Ridge.
That was p>
That was familiar.
The car that took Iris had been seen on that highway.
And Cedar Ridge was where the fake tip yesterday had led us. A dead-end search.
“And after that?” I asked.
“About an hour later, she drove across town. Fifteen miles east. Stayed there for a while-long enough that it
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CMWMBE 32
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wasn’t an accident p>
The water in my stomach turned to ice.
“Send someone,” I said immediately. “I want eyes on both locations. Now p>
“Already on it,” Rick replied.
Connor frowned. “Where’s Colton? He should’ve been here by now.” He dialed his number. Straight to voicemail.
Strange.
My pulse spiked. “Call him again p>
“I already did. Nothing p>
A sharp, electric silence cut through the kitchen.
No Colton.
Venus disappearing.
Iris missing for days.
Strange locations in the middle of the night.
“What do you think is happening?” Connor asked, cautious like he wasn’t sure if I’d answer or break something.
I ran a hand over my face and exhaled, the sound more growl than breath.
“I think,” I said slowly, “someone’s still playing a game I didn’t agree to p>
Connor swallowed. “You think she met someone p>
I shot him a look. “She didn’t drug me for fun p>
He nodded grimly.
“Then who?” he asked. “Her phone was clean. There was nothing p>
“Exactly.” I started pacing. “She knew enough to wipe it p>
“Rick!” Connor called into the living room. “Update p>
Rick leaned into view, laptop under his arm. “Still digging through the GPS logs, but… there was another stop at a bar in Crestwood. The GPS is still pinging there p>
“Explains how she got drunk,” I muttered. “Check the outside footage. Who brought her home p>
Rick nodded quickly. “A taxi brought her back p>
At least in all that haze, she hadn’t driven drunk.
Connor cleared his throat. “You should sit down, Aaron. You still look p>
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“I’m fine,” I said, more sharply than I meant to.
But I wasn’t fine.
Not even close.
My head burned.
My chest ached.
My hands trembled.
And underneath it all, a deep, bone-deep roar was building-a promise of violence for whoever put my wife in
that state.
The last few minutes were still playing in my head.
A lesser man would’ve broken.
But I wasn’t lesser.
I was Aaron Sinclair.
And I was hers.
And that meant I didn’t get to fall apart.
Not while my family was at stake.
I straightened slowly, letting the pain settle into something cold and sharp.
“What were you saying about Durrane?” I asked.
“The guy he met at the hotel?” Connor replied. “He’s from New York. Followed you to Paris. We interrogated him –and that’s what Colton was supposed to brief you on. He was spotted near the block where the car was abandoned. That’s no coincidence. But he’s stopped talking p>
“Then we’ll make him,” I said, voice low.
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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.