Page 159 of Sweet Venom

I poke her nose. “Just peachy.”

She rolls her eyes, but they sparkle with love.Fuck.

How did I get so lucky to be loved by this creature?

I’ve done terrible things, some I’m proud of and others I rather forget, yet she still saw my heart and chose to love it.

Yeah, I’m one lucky fucker.

“You’re all I see…” she whispers.

I smirked. “I know.”

“Oh, wow. Cocky much?”

I winked. She laughed, kissed my cheek, and then looked right back at Stephen.

I hated that her eyes were on another man.

This silly infatuation might become a problem for me now that I think about it. Her eyes sparkle too damn much for my liking.

I was about to pull out my phone again, considering buying a controlling stake in the entire entertainment industry when I noticed something—or someone—in the crowd that immediately pulled my attention away from my phone and my thoughts of corporate conquest.

There’s a woman, standing near the side of the stage. At first, I thought she’s just another fan, but something about the way she stood—so composed, so cold—grabbed my attention.

She’s tall and statuesque. Blonde. Stunning, really, but it wasn’t just her beauty that caught my attention. It was the factthat the anger radiating off her like an inferno was so intense it cut through the chaotic buzz of the concert like a sharp knife.

I glanced closer. I know that woman.

Artemis Volpe.

Poe’s cousin.

Daughter of Andrea and Lucan Volpe—fashion royalty, Olympic gold medalist, supermodel. And right now, she looks like she wants to set Stephen Choi’s world on fire.

She looked like someone crushed her soul while the rapper sings a song about first loves.

Her sharp features were tight, her lips pressed into a thin line, her blonde brows furrowed as she watched the rapper. It’s not just frustration with the idol. There’s pain in her eyes too. Pure, raw heartbreak.

I’ve seen angry fans, obsessive fans, but this? This is different. This is personal. Her eyes are locked on Stephen Choi with the kind of intensity that says she’s already told herself she’s not supposed to care. But she does. And whatever she’s feeling, it’s not good. That much I knew.

I lean over to Poe, whose head is still bobbing to the music. “Baby,” I say, a little too abruptly, “What’s wrong with your cousin?”

She glanced over her shoulder, following my line of sight. “Artemis?” Poe’s voice softened, a slight worry creeping into her tone. “What is she doing here? I talked to her earlier and told her about the concert and she told me she would rather eat shit than listen to the asshole. Those were her words exactly.”

I frowned. “She looks like she wants to kill the fucker.”

“I don’t know what happened between them, but… Artemis has a fucked-up history with Stephen. It’s been a while, but... you know Artemis. She doesn’t show her emotions, but when she does? It’s usually catastrophic.”

I looked back at Poe’s cousin, still standing near the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, her posture as stiff as a statue. She barely even reacts when someone bumps into her—just coldly moves aside without sparing them a second glance. She’s locked in her own little world of rage.

“Think they had a thing?” I asked, gesturing to Stephen, still in the middle of the stage, doing his thing. “He doesn’t look like her type.”

Poe nodded slowly. “I thought so too.” Her voice lowered slightly, as if saying it out loud somehow made it more real. “I’m guessing Stephen did something to break her heart.”

I glanced back at Artemis. The way her icy eyes burned a hole into the stage made me think she’s in some kind of personal hell.

“I hate seeing her like that. I just know that if I push her she’ll push me away. She’s been like that for a long time now. I just try to be there for her in the way she allows me too until she comes to me and asks for help.” The sadness in Poe’s voice bothered me.

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