Page 81 of Sweet Venom

As I wandered deeper into the library, I couldn’t help but run my fingers along the spines of the books, each one more intriguing than the last. The sheer volume of them made me giddy. This was a room meant for someone who loved books—someone who loved stories—and for a moment, I forgot where I was. I was just... me, surrounded by words.

And then, I stopped.

At first, I didn’t believe what I was seeing. My eyes scanned the shelves in disbelief, and then I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. There, on every shelf, were copies of my books. All of them. The books I’d published independently and the ones that Azariel published for me under his publishing house.

My chest aches and my eyes turned liquid as I touched the stories I had thought they’d buried under the weight of my insecurities and self-doubt.

But there they were. Not just one or two copies. No, there were dozens of them. Each one of my books—every single manuscript I had poured my heart and soul into—lined the shelves of Azariel’s library in perfect rows.

But it wasn’t just that. There was another book, a familiar one, nestled among the sea of my novels. I pulled it out, my fingers trembling as I read the title:The Little Prince.

I could feel my heart skip many beats as I traced the edges of the cover. This was the book I used to read to him when we were younger. The one that, for some strange reason, always seemed to make him soft for only a moment. The one I thought I’d left behind, never to be read again because it hurt too much.

But here it was.

Why? What? I leaned closer trying to make sense of this all but ended up feeling like it was a puzzle I’ve yet to finish.

My chest felt tight and I felt like I was having a heart attack. The weight of everything that has happened today, of how much had changed in the matter of hours, hit me all at once.

Azariel, the man who hadn’t shown a single ounce of softness since the night he ripped my tiny heart in two, had somehow made sure my books andourfavorite book were here. In his library.

But why? I could hardly wrap my head around it. What did this all mean? Why were my books here? Why was my copy of the Little Prince here? Had he kept it all this time? Then I looked at my books, the ones I’ve written. And then, another thought crept in. Had he read them? My books?

I looked around the room, my mind racing, but nothing seemed to make sense. How had he known? Why had he donethis? The questions kept coming but I couldn’t come up with any logical answer.

But as I stood there, holding my favorite book in my hands, I came to the realization that there is definitely more to him that he showed the world.

And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to understand him in ways I never could have imagined.

I swallowed hard, trying to push back the emotions that threatened to spill over. I set the book back on the shelf, my fingers lingering for a moment on the pretty cover, as if I were letting go of something I hadn’t realized I was holding on to.

When I turned to leave, my heart was full. Not just of questions, but of a quiet understanding. He had shown me a side of himself that I couldn’t have predicted. And suddenly, the distance between us seemed a little smaller.

I didn’t know where this was going. But for the first time in weeks, I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be a story I’d ever expected to tell. This was raw and real. This was… us.

With a quiet exhale, I forced myself to pull away from the shelf, my heart pounding with awe. I didn’t know a lot right now but one thing I was sure of was that I couldn’t just stand there, letting the questions consume my every thought without finding answers. The girl who once thought the world of Azariel came to the surface, wanting— no, needing to solve the mystery that is the heartless prince. That girl needed to understand more about him.What side of Azariel was this?

The library, with all its dark, quiet magic, held too many answers but I also knew there had to be more. This manor held the answers to all my questions. Of that I was absolutely certain of.

With my heart beating up a storm like the one that was happening outside, I turned on my heel, stepping out of the library and into the shadows of Azariel’s home once again.

The atmosphere seemed even quieter now, the storm outside muting the world, leaving only the soft sounds of my footsteps against the marble floors. Each hallway I passed seemed to twist and turn, leading deeper into the heart of this place.

With the library still heavy on my mind, I wandered further, trying not to make too much noise. Every corner I turned, the mansion revealed a little more of its character. The air felt sweet now, in a way I couldn’t explain, and in a way no one would expect a manor that looked like this one to feel.

I took in everything around me and the feeling of awe in my chest only intensified.

Then, I paused in front of a grand staircase, its sleek marble steps rising up to the second floor. The banister was intricately carved, giving the space a regal feel, though the shadows and dim light made it look haunting.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I glanced down the hallway. A long corridor stretched ahead, black doors lining both sides, each one seemingly identical to the next. But one door, further down, caught my attention. It was slightly ajar, the faintest light spilling out from the crack.

A sense of unease crept up my spine, but I couldn’t ignore the pull to find out what was waiting behind that door. I moved cautiously toward it, my pulse quickening with each step. I tapped my chest repeatedly trying to control my heartbeat but it did nothing.

Once I was in front of the door, I pushed it open slowly, peering into the room. The first thing I noticed was the smell of old leather and faint traces of cigarettes. It smelled like him.

The room was furnished with antiques, but it wasn’t like the rest of the manor. This place felt... different. It felt personal.

A large, black desk sat in the center of the room with two large screens on it. Of course. He’s a big tech nerd.

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