Page 67 of Sweet Venom

I frowned, confused. “Do what?”

“Smile. Laugh.” His voice was almost awkward, as if the words didn’t come easily to him. He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. And then, just when I thought he might say something else, a soft, pink hue dusted his cheeks.

I blinked, stunned. Did he?—?

Azarielblushed.

I stared at him for a moment, almost too shocked to breathe. The cool, calculated man I knew was suddenly… vulnerable. And it was at that small, barely perceptible moment that I saw him—reallysaw him.

“I like it,” he muttered, looking away, the pink still staining his cheeks.

My heart did something strange, something uncontrollable.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Shit. My heart.

I pressed my palm to my chest, as if trying to steady it, but the truth was… nothing would ever feel steady again. Not when Azariel was here, breaking down every defense I’d spent years building.

As I tried to process everything that had happened, the van came to a smooth stop with a soft hum, and before I could even blink, Azariel was already opening the door for me. I took his hand, letting him guide me out of the vehicle. But as I stepped onto the ground, I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flickered down to where my blazer hung open, a faint tension in his jaw. A flash of something crossed his face—something that looked likedesire.

My skin prickled under his gaze, a heat spreading over me that I couldn’t quite explain.

“We’re here,” he mumbled, his voice as low and steady as always.

I glanced around, expecting to find ourselves in a bustling part of the city—somewhere loud and filled with neon lights, maybe. But this… this was different.

Instead of fast-moving crowds and flashing billboards, we were at the entrance of a small, antique bookstore nestled between two buildings that seemed straight out of a painting. Itlooked like something from a fairytale, with its dark, aged wood and vintage windows adorned with delicate displays. A large, golden-pink sign above the door read,“Once Upon a Book”in elegant script.

I froze.

There was a line outside, people standing behind a pink banner, their excited murmurs filling the air. I watched in a daze as their faces lit up, talking animatedly and holding books with my name on the cover.My books. The ones I had published independently, the ones I never thought anyone would care about.

My heart started to race—wildly—like it always did when Azariel got too close. My eyes scanned the small crowd, and it hit me.They’re here for me. These readers, their eager smiles, the way they held my work with reverence—it was all forme.

But before I could process that, I turned to Azariel, my voice shaky. “Azariel... what is this?”

He stood beside me, his posture as still and imposing as ever, but this time, his voice was softer. “It’s a book signing.” He glanced down at me with a rare hint of something… almost gentle. “For you.”

I blinked, the words not quite making sense. For me?

The knot in my stomach twisted, tightening. I felt panic rise up, unbidden. “Wait. No, no, no. I wasn’t invited to this,” I blurted, turning to face him, my voice rising. “Azariel… I wasn’t even told about it. I shouldn’t be here. These people are waiting for their favorite authors—not me. I didn’t sign up for any of this.”

He didn’t say anything right away. I could see the irritation flash across his face, his eyes narrowing and his lips pressing into a thin line. He looked like he might argue—like he was getting ready to shut me down—but then, with a resigned sigh, he spoke again, his voice softer but firm.

“That’s because it’s all for you,” he said, his tone almost gruff as though it didn’t matter. “Look at their books. You’re the author they’re here to see.”

My throat went dry.

All for me?

It didn’t make sense. Sure, I had loyal readers—sweet people who appreciated my work—but not enough for a crowd like this. Not enough to have a line of people waiting for a book signing.

I blinked, trying to grasp what he was saying, and it finally hit me like a brick to the chest. This wasn’t some random event. This wasn’t just a coincidence.

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