Page 82 of Sweet Venom

I took in the walls next and noticed how they were adorned with framed photographs—photographs I didn’t expect to see.

There, in these pictures, he wasn’t the icy, untouchable billionaire. He was the young boy I once knew. In some, he was with Uncle Vitali and Aunt Kadra, a soft smile on his face, his eyes a little warmer than I’d ever seen them. In others, he was with his little sister, Raiza, sitting in his mother’s rose garden, a book in his hands, looking peaceful, even content.

I was drawn to the photographs like a moth to a flame. They painted a different picture of him—one deep down I knew existed but I’d never seen. I wondered how much of that Azariel was still left inside him.

I reached out to one of the photos, my fingers grazing the glass frame. I traced his face in all of them. How… beautiful. His smile.

My fingers grazed the glass of the frame when the door suddenly creaked behind me. I froze.

My heart skipped.

Busted.

I turned around quickly, my breath catching in my throat. The door to the study was still open, but now there was a faint noise coming from further down the hall. Footsteps. Quiet, deliberate, as though someone was coming this way. Shit.

Without thinking, I hurried to step back from the wall, my heart racing.

He couldn’t catch me snooping in here.

With that in mind, I darted for the door, but as I did, I caught one last glance at the pictures, my mind buzzing with questions but most of all with the need to experience one of those smiles from him.

I closed the door as quietly as I could and hurried back down the hallway, my steps light but rushed. As I reached the top of the stairs, I glanced back toward the door I’d just exited, but thesound of approaching footsteps was getting louder. It had to be him. I hadn’t seen anyone here but us.

If he caught me I don’t know what I would say. My heart would take over my mouth and that was dangerous.

So, I descended the stairs quickly, glancing over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being followed. My mind raced, the urge to understand Azariel’s heart only intensifying with each unanswered question and with each sweet moment we shared.

Once inside the room, I locked the door behind me. I knew he would let me be but yet I didn’t trust myself to go look for him in the dark. I had a bad record of doing that.

Yeah, maybe I didn’t know all there was to know about Azariel like I thought I did. But, I knew one thing for sure and that was that in this magical and lonely place I would find out more than I ever expected about my dark and beautiful prince.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

GHOSTS OF THE PAST

Azariel

“You were never safe, but you were always mine.” – A

The atmosphere had a melancholic feeling to it tonight while the air was thick with the smell of roses. Their red petals moved in the breeze like something out of a beautiful nightmare.

Valentine’s Day has never meant anything to me. No holiday ever had. They’re all just reminders of the fragile things I never let myself believe in. But tonight—this holiday felt darker than usual. My mother’s rose garden was full of shadows, the heavy branches reaching upward like they wanted to claw the sky and rip it half. There were barely any stars, and the clouds were dark, heavy with rain.

It was as if the weather was in sync with my emotions.

I stood in the middle of the garden, staring at the torn pieces of the Valentine’s card scattered on the ground.Poe’s handwriting—so sweet—was now nothing but scraps, scattered like funeral confetti. I had ripped her card into shreds right in front of her.

I’m a bastard.

A cold-hearted one.

“She’s too good,” I thought, clenching my fists. “She’s better than me. She deserves better.”

My chest burned, but I forced the feeling down. I had hurt her. I knew it. I hurt her sweet heart. But I needed her to stay away. I was broken—my sharp edges would only cut her if she got too close. I couldn’t let that happen. Not again.

The kind-hearted always ended up hurt because of me. Always.

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