Chapter 32
Chapter 32
VENUS
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“Aaron p>
The voice was feminine, familiar, and laced with an easy confidence.
“Sabine?” Genuine joy flickered in Aaron’s eyes as he peeled her hands from his waist and pulled her into a hug. That joy hit me like a slap. She was blonde, radiant, and looked like she belonged in the same age bracket as me-maybe even younger.
“The one and only.” She beamed up at him, the kind of grin that spoke of inside jokes and years of history. And just like that, I was a third wheel with my plus one at this event.
“Connor,” she added, her tone dipping slightly. Tension slid in under the surface. Subtle, but undeniable.
“Sabine.” Connor’s smile was tight, polite. Oh, there was definitely a story there.
Before I could ask, someone cleared their throat behind us. Sharp. Deliberate.
We turned.
Caroline. Richard.
Aaron didn’t even flinch.
“Babe, this is Sabine, my sister.” His voice softened when he looked at her, something warm passing between them. That softness? It threw me. He’d told me on our first date that he was his mother’s only child. And I knew Caroline had two kids. So Sabine… she wasn’t from his mother’s side.
“Sabine, this is Venus, my girlfriend p>
“Girlfriend? Oh my God, Aaron.” Her face lit up like Christmas. It’s so nice to meet you. My rude brother didn’t even tell me he had a girlfriend.” She shot him a mock glare before pulling me into a hug.
“It’s so nice to meet you. He… he’s mentioned you a few times p>
A bald-faced lie. But I wore it well.
“Really? Good things, I hope,” she teased, tossing Aaron a knowing glance. Her energy? Nothing like Caroline’s. Sabine radiated warmth.
And then came the poison in pearls.
Caroline.
“She’s your girlfriend?” Her tone dripped syrup and venom. “We met yesterday, and you didn’t even mention her p>
“I wonder why,” Aaron said, bone-dry.
“Stop this nonsense, Aaron. Her?” Richard growled,
“Dad-” Sabine began, voice laced with warning.
“It’s fine.” Aaron’s tone snapped like steel. “I’ll see you later, Sabie.” He kissed her cheek and took my hand, leading me
away.
I blinked, realizing somewhere in the chaos, Connor had vanished.
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Chapter 32
Aaron’s mood darkened: cold, cutting. I squeezed his hand gently.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Peachy,” he replied with a crooked, bitter smile.
“You want-
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Before I could finish, a man in a navy suit stepped into our path “Aaron, excuse me. We need to discuss something. Now p>
Aaron’s jaw tightened. “Wait here. I’ll be back soon p>
He disappeared into the sea of designer suits and crystal laughter.
I didn’t want to stand there pretending. The stares, the fake smiles, it was too much. I slipped onto the balcony, into the quiet.
The night air wrapped around me, crisp and grounding. The city glittered in the distance, distant and indifferent. Out here
felt real.
“You always run when you get overwhelmed p>
I turned.
Aaron.
He walked toward me, hands in his pockets, tux jacket undone. That perfect disheveled look-like he’d just walked out of a billionaire’s fever dream.
“Maybe,” I said, leaning into the railing. “I didn’t know you owned this hotel. People keep saying it like it’s common knowledge p>
“I don’t,” he said.
I looked at him, brows raised.
“It’s under my mom’s name. She runs it. I named it Rosemary after her. But it’s hers p>
There was something in his voice-quiet reverence. Something I hadn’t heard before.
“You really admire her, don’t you p>
He met my eyes. “She’s the only woman who ever gave a damnabout me p>
I swallowed. The weight of that sentence settled between us.
“You ever talk about her p>
He shook his head. “Not really. But tonight… you asked p>
We stood there, city lights behind us, truth hanging in the air lie fog. Then he kissed me.
Soft. Slow. Like he had time to waste and all the time was mine!
I kissed him back because, in that moment, it didn’t feel like a game. It didn’t feel like pretend. It felt… real.
And then; clapping. Laughter. A few gasps.
I turned
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Chapter 32
We weren’t alone. A small crowd had spilled onto the balcony,
Of course.
I stepped back, pulse stuttering.
It was just for show, Venus.
Get it together.
This isn’t love-it’s performance art with champagne and cou
And I’d better remember my role before I forget the script.
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Mark Twain