Page 8 of Sweet Venom

“I’m telling you, it works better on the other wall,” he insisted, arms crossed, tattoos on his forearms—where my little brother’s name rested—shifting as he gestured.

“And I’m telling you, I don’t want it there. It blocks the light from the window,” I countered.

He was about to respond when his phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. He glanced at it, muttered, “It’s Enzo,” and picked up the call, one hand still on his hip.

“What?” he said, his tone dark and annoyed. Only one person could shift my father’s mood so quickly—his twin brother, Uncle Enzo.

I kept unpacking, but something about the way Dad’s posture shifted caught my attention. He straightened, his expression darkening, his eyes suddenly sharp.

“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice more clipped now. “When?”

I sat the stack of books in my hands down and looked over at him. He turned slightly away, moving toward the window, one hand raking through his cropped hair.

“Is he okay?” he asked. His voice was quieter now, but there was a tension in it I’d only heard a handful of times in my life.

I felt my chest tighten, my body frozen mid-movement as I watched him.

He didn’t say much after that—just a few short, serious responses. Then he ended the call and leaned one hand on the windowsill, staring out without a word.

“Dad?” I asked cautiously, stepping closer. “What happened?”

He exhaled sharply and turned to face me, worry etched into his features. “Your uncle Enzo just called. Your brother is in trouble.”

“What? Vade?” My voice rose in panic, my brain leaping to worst-case scenarios.

“Cassian.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought Vade would be the one to send me to an early grave. Who would've guessed it’d be the little one trying to beat him to it. Damn it.”

Cassie?

But… he had Mom’s heart. He was our little man—even though he stood nearly as tall as Dad. My fingers twitched with the urge to grab my phone.

“I need to call him. I need to find out what’s going on—what he’s hiding,” I said, stepping closer and placing a hand on Dad’s tattooed arm. “Don’t say stuff like that. Not even as a joke.”

He sighed, holding my gaze for a long moment. “I need to go get him.”

I nodded, though my chest ached at the thought of him leaving so soon after helping me settle in. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, baby.” He shook his head firmly. “You’ve got your life here now. You’re just starting out. Your mom and I will handle your brother.”

“But—”

“No buts, Poe.” His voice softened, though the worry still lingered in his eyes. “I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

I nodded reluctantly, my mind already spinning. Before I could say more, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tight, as if afraid to let go.

His scent—faint cologne, mixed with coffee and worn leather—wrapped around me like home. Everything felt still. I closed my eyes, grounding myself at the moment.

“You’re my dream come true, Poe,” he whispered into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. “Everything I’ve fought for, every demon I’ve faced… it was all worth it for this. You, your mother, your brothers—you’re all the best parts of me. Always have been.”

He pulled back to look me in the eyes, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. “I love you, baby girl. More than life itself. Don’t ever forget that.”

God, maybe I was a cynic when it came to love because of my own history with it—but I knew love was real. I knew because I’d seen it. I’d lived it. My father was proof.

A man with a dark past, blood on his hands, and shadows in his mind could still be the best husband, the fiercest protector, and the most loving father.

The lump in my throat made it hard to speak, but I managed to smile, blinking away the moisture threatening to fall. “I love you too, Dad,” I whispered.

He smiled, his usual stern face softening. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then stepped back, brushing his hands down his jeans like he was trying to shake off the weight of emotion.

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