Page 26 of Sweet Venom

My gaze dropped to her feet, and there were black combat boots. Combat boots. To a meeting at my publishing house. I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

Of course, she would have shown up like that, like she was immune to every unspoken rule of professionalism. How things had changed. She had been such a stickler to rules before, and slowly she had transformed into the woman who stood before me. I didn’t know how to feel about that. I wanted my lovely and delicate rose back, yet this version made something inside me scream for me.

That only made me more annoyed. Or, at least, that was what I told myself.

Then she did something that made my chest ache. She damn well blushed. And when she blushed, it was the kind of soft, unguarded pink that crept across her cheeks and made her look… Well, sweet. Too damn sweet and pretty.

My chest betrayed me with a single, traitorous skip of my heart.

I scowled, trying to drown out the unwelcome fluttering in my chest. Crossing my arms, I narrowed my eyes at her and said, in my coldest, most gruff voice, “You’re late.”

The pretty blush deepened, and she stammered a low apology. Damn her for being so disarmingly… her. And damn my own heart for being a little bitch.

Hers.

I felt the tension in the air pressing down on me, her silence crawling under my skin. The look on her face told me all I needed to know… me being there was something she wasn’t expecting. Good.

Her eyes trailed me up and down. I clenched my jaw, the weight of her stare doing things to me I didn’t want toacknowledge. Not being able to take her silence any longer, I gave in and broke the silence.

“Take a seat,” I snapped, the words coming out harsher than I intended.

She blinked, the softness in her eyes dimming as if I had flipped a switch. Without a word, she moved to the chair across from me and sat down, quiet and composed. I saw it, the subtle shift in her. The softness and excitement were gone, replaced by a guarded coolness that made her look like she was suiting up for war.

I did that to her.

My chest tightened in a way I didn’t like, but I pushed it down, locking it away to deal with later.

Once, I would’ve advised her to keep her guard up. It was better for her to think of me as an enemy. Because that was all I was capable of being. But that had changed. Yes, I craved her fight, but I also wanted that sweetness that used to soften all my hard edges when we were kids.

“Take a seat, Miss Nicolasi,” I repeated.

“It’s James.” Poe sat stiffly, her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap, but her eyes were anything but docile. They narrowed slightly. “It’s James.”

I tried to suppress a smile. “Alright. Miss James.”

I knew how her mother’s maiden name was what she used to publish under. Not wanting her father’s fame to be the reason behind her success.

“What is going on?” Her voice was cool, matching the sudden frost in her demeanor. “Since when do you own this publishing house?” she asked, her tone clipped.

I raised a brow at her, leaning back in my chair, the picture of unaffected calm. “A month.”

“A month?” She scoffed, her lips tightening into a thin line before she continued. “And why am I here in your office insteadof with the team that was supposed to work with me like I was told?”

Her words were a calculated jab, sharp and precise, sending a thrill down my spine. I liked it. I liked it a fuck of a lot.

“You’re here with me because I said so,” I said flatly, my voice calm but firm. “This is how things are going to work. You’ll be working with me directly. The rest of the team can handle everyone else.”

Her brows shot up, disbelief written all over her gorgeous face. “That wasn’t part of the deal I signed.”

I knew. I had drafted the contract myself.

I shrugged. “The deal changed.”

Her glare could have melted steel, and for a second, I almost—almost—felt guilty. But then I reminded myself why I was doing this. Why I had to do this. Even if it meant making her hate me all over again. Not like she ever stopped.

Annoyed, Poe stood up abruptly, the sudden movement making a stray strand of blue hair slip from her tight bun, falling and sticking to the tip of her nose. The sight of her trying to brush it away with a frustrated frown caught me off guard, and for a second, she looked… adorable.

She straightened, clearly trying to regain her composure, and leveled a look at me. “What’s your game, Azariel?” she asked, her voice sharp with barely concealed irritation.

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