Page 49 of Sweet Addiction
It took me a year to writeA Crown of Stars and Ruin. Two months to work on edits. Six months to convince myself it was good enough to send to an editor. And another three months to decide whether to independently publish the book or try to get traditionally published.
Ultimately, I chose the indie route because I thought I could keep it to myself more easily if I were my own publisher. Pretty sure I was right. But as I get another seven-figure offer for the rights to book one and the following two books in the trilogy thathaven’t been written or published yet, I wonder if I’m in over my head.
Book Two is taking longer than I expected.
My editor is hounding me for chapters every day.
Stressful doesn’t cover it.
I hate this.
People don’t even know I’m Theia DeLaurentiis, and I still get stressed out seeing her name—essentiallymyname—on social media. And it’s everywhere. I had no idea this book would take on such a big, exciting life of its own. People love Cassia, and who knew Radix would be so loved or that Draven would be so hated? Poor, misunderstood Draven. They’ll love him eventually. At least if I do my job right, they will.
I glance through the floor-to-ceiling windows in Rome’s office and burrow further into the soft blue blanket wrapped around me as my fingers fly across the keyboard.
“You can’t do this, Radix. You can’t leave me. Don’t leave me,” I scream, my voice hoarse as my words are ripped raw from my throat while I cling to his hand, refusing to let the gods take him. “You’re mine. They can’t have you.”
“I was wondering where you were.” Rome walks into his office, and I snap my MacBook closed. I know he knows the truth, but writing in front of him still feels... wrong. I’ve spent over two years protecting this secret. He was the first person to figure it out, and he immediately weaponized it against me. I refuse to give him any more ammunition.
“Sorry.” I blow out the candle on the small table and grab my notebook and pen. “I should have asked before I used your office. I just needed a little privacy. Your house is so open. It doesn’t offer much.”
His blue eyes glance past me to the snowy creek in the distance. “You can use my office, Dillan. You should be comfortable while you’re here.”
“How am I supposed to be comfortable when you forced me here?” I blow out a breath with a slight shake of my head. A faint headache is already forming behind my eyes. “Don’t answer that. Forget I asked. My parents want us to come for dinner this weekend. It wasn’t really phrased like an invitation as much as an order.”
“Seriously?” The nerve on this man.
“You blackmailed me into lying about a relationship, and you’re surprised when my parents want to have us over to grill us?” I snap back. “Lilah said she and Killian would come too as a bit of a buffer.”
“Does your sister?—”
“No. She doesn’t know the truth. Although I don’t understand why we have to lie to our friends and family if it’s the press you’re worried about.” I hold my ground, clasping my pink MacBook tightly in my hands. “Are you ever going to tell me why I’m here? What made you need this? Or how come I’m the only answer?” Living with this giant dick might not have been as bad as I expected, but I’ll never admit that to him. He’s more thoughtful than I assumed he’d be. But it’s barely been ten days, so there’s plenty of time for his true colors to show.
His cocky mask wavers for a split second, and the same man I’ve watched fake it for years looks back at me. And damn this man for calling out to a piece of my soul that feels its kindred spirit. “You wouldn’t believe me if I did tell you.”
“Try me.” I level him with a raw honesty I wouldn’t typically bother to give light around him. “I might surprise you.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he grumbles, and he turns for the kitchen. “You hungry?”
I shrug but stuff my things into my bag and follow behind, letting the smell of garlic and onion guide me. “It smells delicious.”
“Thanks. Sit and I’ll make you a plate. We might as well talk this shit out before we do dinner with your parents.”
“Well, that sounds ominous...” I hang my bag from the back of the wooden chair and grab two bottles of vitamin water from the fridge before I see a bowl of salad wrapped in plastic on the top shelf. “Do you want me to grab this too?”
“Might as well.”
This is as close to civil as we’ve been with each other in two years, and it makes my skin itch. I’m not someone who’s good at keeping grudges. Anger takes energy, and I’d rather spend mine on other things. But this man hurt me in a way I’ve never allowed myself to be broken before or since.
One night, one morning, and one phone call was all it took.
I haven’t forgotten that, and I’m not sure I ever will.
He walks over a few minutes later with two plates of grilled chicken and quinoa rice, placing one in front of me before taking a seat across the table.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “Now start talking.”
Rome takes his sweet time slicing his chicken and dressing the salad before he finally opens his normally big mouth. “I’ve been waiting a decade forthefight. The one that makes my career. The one that gets me a belt. Legitimacy. The one that shuts all the fuckers down. I’ve finally been given that opportunity, and someone is trying to fuck with it.”
