Page 66 of Sweet Venom

My heart pounded fast in my chest like it was struggling to be free from its confines and be with its owner.

I shook my head, still confused. “You just... decided to do this?” I asked, trying to process it. “You just decided to make me a popular and known author. Just like that?”

He didn’t even look at me. “I didn’t decide anything. I made it happen.”

It took a moment for everything to click. Azariel had the kind of power that could take something from nothing and turn it into something huge. That’s what he did with every single one of his companies. From something small he built something great. He did that in a matter of what? Days? Hours? How haven’t I noticed?

My unpublished manuscripts that I was too much of a coward to publish were now...big.

And somehow, I didn’t feel mad.

Confused?Absolutely. How the hell had he gotten his hands on my manuscripts? Had he hacked my files? I didn’t know. What Ididknow was that he’d done this without asking, without even giving me a choice. My mind screamed that it was an invasion—he had no right. He’d crossed a line by doing something so personal, sominewithout my permission.

But as much as I fought it, as much as I tried to push it all down, there was this small, quiet part of me that couldn’t help but wonder… maybe, just maybe, he had done something sweet for me.

Had he? Or was this just another one of his power plays?

Azariel didn’t need the fame. He didn’t need the money. So why had he done this? Why did he give me a chance when I was too terrified to take it myself?

A sinking realization hit me: he hadn’t done this for himself. This was all for me.

All for me.

My books were out there. People were reading them. They were actually enjoying them. They were talking about them, praising them in the comments. This wasn’t some small thing. This washuge. The dream I had buried for so long was finally coming true, and I could hardly believe it. All of it was because of him. Everything.

I stole a glance at him, my chest tight with so many emotions I could barely keep them straight. Before I could stop myself, the words just tumbled out, almost shyly. “You didn’t even ask me. You didn’t tell me you were doing this.”

Azariel finally turned to me. His face was unreadable, as usual—but his eyes… there was something there now that I hadn’t seen before. A softness, a rare flicker that unsettled me. It was like a side of him he never let anyone see, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to run from it or lean into it.

“Why would I?” His voice was steady, but there was something else—something quieter in his tone. “You were never going to publish them yourself.”

The sting of his words hit harder than I expected. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong. But the truth was, he wasn’t.

I had hidden those stories away. I kept them locked up like secrets that could never see the light of day. I hadn’t even trusted my father, the one person I gave everything I wrote to, with them. I kept them buried because I was terrified of failing. Of not being good enough. Of no one ever caring.

And now, Azariel had taken that choice from me. He hadn’t just put my work out there—he’dmadesomething of it.

“Why?” I whispered, the question barely escaping my lips. Why publish my old work when he had offered me a deal for something new?

His gaze softened even more. He gave a brief, almost imperceptible shrug. “Your work is too good to stay in the shadows. You’re too good for that.”

I should have been mad. I should have screamed at him for making decisions about my life without consulting me. I should have felt betrayed. But I didn’t.

Because deep down, beneath the layers of confusion and frustration, I realized something: In his own messed-up way, Azariel had given me everything I’d ever wanted.

Well, almost everything.

A shaky breath escaped me, and my chest swelled with a mix of joy, disbelief, and a warmth I didn’t know how to handle. “Thank you…” The words didn’t seem like enough, but it was all I had.

I glanced down at my phone, still buzzing with notifications, but when I looked back at Azariel, something inside me snapped. Without thinking, I did something I hadn’t done in years—not with him, anyway.

I smiled—truly smiled—with all my heart. And when the laughter bubbled up, I couldn’t stop it. It felt strange at first, like the sound was foreign to me. But it was real. It was raw. It wasmine.

Azariel’s gaze flickered to me. His eyes lingered, studying my face as if trying to figure out what had just happened.

And then, to my surprise, he spoke.

“Do that more.”

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