Page 195 of Craving Venom

Xaden steps in, slinging an arm over Michael’s shoulder, settling into the easy familiarity of old friends.

“Are you girls here to join us?” Xaden asks, his eyes glinting with amusement.

I shake my head. “Rain check.”

“Same,” Tria adds.

“Suit yourselves.” Xaden smirks, but there’s no disappointment. He’s already gone, picking up the drumsticks again and falling back into rhythm with Michael and Leo.

“Kitchen next?” Tria asks.

“Yeah.”

We follow the corridor and the air grows warmer as we move deeper into the facility. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, mixed with the faint, comforting scent of baked bread, hits me first. When we step inside, it’s nothing like I expect.

The kitchen is way too clean. Stainless steel counters gleam under the fluorescent lights. The industrial oven hums quietly, and the smell of something sweet lingers in the air.

But it’s the man behind the counter that catches my attention.

He’s tall, lean, with sun-kissed skin and dark hair that’s just starting to gray at the temples. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing strong forearms dusted with flour. There’s a warmth in his smile that feels… out of place.

“Ladies, Name’s Carlos” he greets, flashing a grin that’s too easy for someone locked up in here. “What can I do for you?”

Tria glances at me, then back at him. “We’re just… looking around.”

“Well,” he wipes his hands on a towel, “you’re in the right place. Best coffee in the whole damn prison.”

He moves behind the counter, pulling out three mugs like this is just another day at the neighborhood café.

“Black?”

“Sure.” I take a seat on one of the stools as Tria settles in beside me.

“Same,” Tria adds, her gaze flicking around the space, taking everything in.

Carlos pours out the coffee with a steady hand. The scent fills the air and for a moment, I forget where I am.

“You’ve done this before.”

He smirks, sliding the mugs across the counter.

“Old habits die hard.”

I wrap my hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into my skin.

“Faith,” I introduce myself as he leans against the counter.

“Tria.”

“Pleasure.” He nods, but something in his eyes doesn’t quite match the easygoing smile on his face.

“You’ve been here a while?” Tria asks.

“Thirteen years.”

I blink. “Thirteen?”

“Long story.”

---