Page 40 of Venomous Kiss
“I don’t want your sister,” I tell him. “You can’t tell me you want her to be happy and then watch and encourage her to be with someone who doesn’t want her.”
“Try, Reon. You better fucking try with her. Or so help me God…” His expression hardens into a mask of stern determination, his jaw setting like concrete as he stares me down with an intensity that brokers no arguments.
I step toward Soren, my fierce and unyielding glare cutting into his. With my head held high, a sinister grin on my face, I lower my voice; my gravelly timbre is all the more intimidating. “The thing is, Soren, the others may be afraid of you, but my demons are bigger than yours.”
The door opens, and Maya steps in, carrying another bag. Her golden gaze flicks between Soren and me.
“Should we plan a dinner together…
for all of us?” she asks.
I turn and stalk straight to my bedroom and slam the door.
Fuck them.
SIXTEEN
LILITH
Dear Diary,
I tried. I really did. But he has a hold on me.
I’m not sure I would be able to let him go even if I wanted to.
Even if he is with her.
Does that make me a bad person?
Tell me, diary…
Am I bad?
xox
“You look awfully familiar.”
I stare at the man dressed in a white button-up shirt and neatly pressed dark blue trousers as he opens the door for me. His eyes, almost the same color as the night sky, stare down at me. He is tall, possibly the same height as Reon. He’s the man my father wanted me to meet. But I have already seen this man before. Goddammit! He is a member of the Society.
“Why do you look so familiar?” he asks.
I don’t move from my spot because if I run, he’ll know. I try not to give anything away with my body language because he will know.
“Maybe because I look like my father,” I say, and he waits a few breaths before he nods and steps back, opening the door for me to come in. He shuts the door behind me and motions for me to sit on the couch.
“I’ve been to a therapist before, but it never worked,” I tell him.
“I’m not your usual therapist. Plus, I doubt you could afford me anyway.” I bite my lip at that.
He moves to a couch across from mine, though it looks more like a recliner than a couch. He leans forward, his almost black hair pushed back and styled neatly. He’s fit, very much so, and he’s also a little older than me, I think.
“I don’t do favors. I despise them. But your father…” He pauses. “Well, I have kept you a secret long enough, so anyone who would take that information and run with it wouldn’t be privy to it.”
“I was a secret?” I ask, confused.
He sits back and brings one foot to rest on his knee, his polished shoe shining in the light.
“Yes. You have a different last name from his. He did it all to protect you. Have you ever looked at your birth certificate?” he asks. “He’s not on it.”
