Sweet Venom: Chapter 16

I pounce the second I see Charlie Croft walk out of Vi’s office. I’m well aware of who Charlie is to Vi, but it never mattered. Charlie was never meant to see me anywhere around Vivian Fiori, but when she walked onto the jobsite today, I was the lucky motherfucker she bumped into, as I was at the reception desk hanging the light-up Blush logo. When I turned around and our eyes locked, there was an unspoken acknowledgment that she knew exactly who I was.

It was obvious running into me here caught her off guard; I was the last person she thought she’d run into, and it only got worse when I walked her back to Vi’s office. Charlie didn’t miss how I took Vi’s breath away by showing my face. We’ve always had chemistry; the only person who refused to acknowledge it was Vi. But ever since we crossed the line, our shared connection has become undeniable. She wants me just as much as I want her, and that’s why I interrupted the meeting.

It’s Charlie’s job to keep my true identity under wraps, but after she witnessed our connection, I have no doubt Charlie spilled my secrets, contract or not. Vi means more to her, and I don’t want to lose her, not when I’ve come this far. I refuse to let someone else give my truth. If she’s going to find out about me, she’s going to hear it from my mouth. I will show her exactly who I am and hope it’s enough.

Barging into Vi’s office, I open the door and say, ‘Ready for lunch?’

Her eyes flash to her computer screen before she mocks back, ‘It’s only 10:30am.’

‘I’m well aware of the time, Vivian.’ I use her full name, which I never do, to underscore my seriousness. I told her I would be coming back in thirty minutes. Fuck it. I march into the office and quickly swipe her phone off her desk.

‘Hey, give that back,’ she demands.

But I shove the phone in my pocket and head toward the door. ‘Let’s go.’

‘We’ve been driving for thirty minutes. You realize we only get an hour for lunch, right?’

The ride thus far has been cloaked in silence, and if I thought there was any question as to whether or not Charlie spilled the beans about my true identity, there isn’t now. I’m just unsure of how Vi feels about it. I haven’t been able to get a read on her, and I don’t know if that’s because my mind is going over every possible negative outcome or if it’s because it doesn’t change anything for her. Either way, she’s getting my truth.

Pulling off the highway, I take the exit toward my old house, the one I grew up in, at least until age fifteen. I haven’t been back here in years, refusing to let myself feel anything, but as the familiar streets flash by, anger slowly starts to rise to the surface.

‘Don’t pretend with me, Vi. I’m well aware that you know who I am. I’m certain the friend card vetoed the NDA I signed with Croft Tech, but whatever. Who I am or who I was won’t matter much longer anyway. I’m all in, Vi.’ I pause, momentarily taking my eyes off the road to meet hers before adding, ‘So I figured I’d show you myself.’

‘All I have is a name, Tate. She didn’t give me anything else aside from her own thoughts.’

I press my lips together to hold my tongue. It’s not Vi’s fault I’m upset. I’m not sure what bothers me more: the fact that the truth is coming out or hearing her verbal confirmation that the contract I paid good money for was breached. Croft Tech is one of the biggest security companies in the United States, not just for their groundbreaking spy tech, but for their Ghost software. Ghost can make a person disappear without a trace and create new identities with intact histories undetected by any other program. If someone were to run a background check on me or look into my past, Tatum Carroway would have a solid, ordinary life with no red flags. That’s what Ghost did for my sister and me—until Charlie decided to give Vi a name.

Before my brain can compute the rest of what she said about Charlie sharing her own thoughts, we’re pulling down the street I grew up on, and any fucks concerning what Charlie may have had to say about me go out the window.

‘I grew up here,’ I say as we slowly make our way down the street that dead-ends into the cul-de-sac I used to call home.

‘Why are you bringing me here, Tate?’ she asks as she closely examines each house we pass, letting me know that, while she might be confused and slightly annoyed, she’s also intrigued. A part of her wants to know, and that’s all I need. I only need a piece.

‘Because I won’t allow someone else to tell you about my life. I’m aware of what Charlie knows, but it’s not the whole story.’

As we reach the end of the street, the three-bedroom, two-car garage and white stucco ranch house with gray shutters comes into view. The hedges are overgrown, the windows are boarded up, and I’m sure the inside is now uninhabitable after years of people breaking and entering, pillaging, and vandalizing the property.

‘This is the house I grew up in,’ I say as I pull into the driveway and drift back to a time when it was mine. When it was home. She doesn’t say anything as she looks on with wide eyes, examining the property in its current state, but she doesn’t need to. It’s clear that what was once here is gone. It’s up to me to tell her about it.

‘It may not look like it now, but I had a good life here with wonderful parents and a loving sister, until suddenly, that was all taken from me. After the accident, my sister and I were put into foster care since we had no next of kin. We bounced around from house to house for years, no one wanting to keep us too long because of Chelsea’s health issues. They were willing to keep me, but not her. I refused to be separated. I was all she had left.’

I stay silent as I remember the many houses we stayed in. Most were friendly enough and so helpful, at least in the beginning. They saw two kids who’d had their lives uprooted and tragically lost their parents, but the more time passed, the older we got, and the novelty of our story wore off. We became a paycheck. My hand grips the steering wheel a little tighter from the hurt that grabs my heart when I think about my sister and the pain she suffered. She was so young, only eight years old.

‘Will you tell me?’ Vi asks softly as she stares at the house.

‘Chelsea and I were in the crash that killed our parents. Our dad was ejected from the car and hit by an oncoming vehicle. He died instantly. My mother and I were on the side of the impact. The front took the majority of the hit. She was crushed. They had to use the jaws of life to free her, but it was too late by the time they got her out. She bled out on the scene from her injuries. I sustained a concussion and received multiple lacerations from the glass, while Chelsea walked away seemingly unharmed, aside from the mental scars surviving a life-altering crash leaves behind.’

‘Oh my god, Tate, I’m so sorry. That’s fucking terrible; I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around the trauma and loss you endured.’

She reaches for my hand resting on the center console, and I let her take it. A part of me is dying for it, not just because it’s Vi, but because I’ve spent years living this nightmare alone. Sure, I have Chelsea, but I don’t dare bring up the accident for fear of worsening her trauma. She doesn’t need to relive the pain and loss with me when I already know it steals her sleep and every other waking moment.

Vi’s thumb slightly brushes over the top of mine, and I can feel her eyes boring into the side of my head as I keep my focus pinned on our joined hands. It’s the first sentimental touch we’ve ever shared. Who would have thought that reliving a nightmare could be a bonding moment? That thought has me squeezing her hand and releasing it to throw the Jeep in reverse and give her more. This stop was only part of my story. She feels sorry for the kid who lost his family, but will she still feel sorry for the man I was forced to become?

I don’t bother driving her to all the other houses we stayed in during our time in the system. Only two matter: where my story began and the place that changed me. Up until the last house, I was not morally corroded or disturbed. Angry, yes, but depraved, no. This place made me sick. It’s the sole reason I need to do one more job. It’s not just for Chelsea.

As we pull off the highway, taking the exit toward Los Gatos, I remind myself that Vi is not from California. Most of the scenery and lavish homes are new to her and something to marvel at, and I suppose if I hadn’t spent four years frequenting this street and the community just around the corner, I might look upon them with the same awe, but I can’t. Not when I know what goes on behind closed doors.

Pulling up to the gate of Clara Estates, Charles, the seventy-year-old guard who’s manned the gate for the past ten years, greets me with a warm smile. ‘Carter Manolas, is that you?’

‘Hello, Charles. How have you been?’

‘Better now that I got to see your face.’ He strolls out of the booth and stands at my door, placing his hands on my face easily since I’m driving my Jeep with no doors. ‘It’s been too long, son. You’ve grown so much.’ I spent hours at his shack over the years just to escape the house that sits behind these iron gates. He pats my cheek lightly before adding, ‘I’m finally retiring. This is my last week.’ His eyes leave mine only to flash over to Vi riding shotgun. ‘I was wondering when you would get yourself a girl.’ He gives her a wink before returning to the shack and saying, ‘She looks like a keeper, Carter. You better not mess it up.’ Without another word, he presses the button on the gate and lets us back.

I’ve never brought anyone home. In high school, I kept a low profile. I didn’t date. Everything I did was a means to an end, and I couldn’t consciously put anyone else on the Sweets’ radar. They were the last foster family we stayed with.

‘Tate, what is this? Where are you taking me now?’

Her use of the name Tate over my given name gives me pause. I’ve never thought much about what people would call me if they discovered Tatum Carroway wasn’t my birthname, but that’s because I never planned on anyone finding out. But hearing it now from her lips, even though she has my real name, cements what I’ve known in my heart for years. Carter Manolas died a long time ago.

‘Last stop, I promise, and then I’ll feed you.’

I can feel her eyes on me as we drive through the affluent neighborhood that has this old Jeep and me sticking out like a sore thumb. This vehicle in this neighborhood doesn’t add up. Why would I intimately know the guard to a gated community filled with multi-million-dollar mansions? We pull up to the sixteen-thousand-square-foot European-inspired manor that screams opulence and money. Beyond the bi-fold security gate that sits at the edge of the private drive, walls clad in stone are punctuated with a series of arched and clerestory windows that define two towers at the front entrance. The design is meant to bring old-world architecture into the 21st century, but because I lived there, I know they serve another purpose, just like the gate that sits at its front.

With my car pulled up to the curb, I nod toward the house and say, ‘This is the last place I lived while in the system. I spent two years in that house.’

She keeps her eyes pinned to the house, taking it all in as she says, ‘It looks like a dream, but your tone suggests that’s not the case.’ Not wanting to sit outside the house a minute longer, I pull away. ‘We’re leaving already?’

‘Yeah, I know a good spot down the street. I’ll tell you about it there.’ Truth is, I need time to collect my thoughts. I know I want to give her this truth, but I’m not sure how to share it, and once it’s out, I can’t take it back.

‘Hey, I’m going to use the restroom. Just order me what’s good.’ Vi says before she heads toward the bathroom.

The drive over to Yen Ching was quiet. Most of our driving today has been spent in silence, and it’s throwing me off. I don’t know what to make of it. Last night I told her I was throwing my hat in the ring and wanted to be her man. I fully expected to meet resistance. I was prepared for her to fight me tooth and nail and shove her relationship with Ellis down my throat. I’m fully aware I can’t offer her the same things Ellis Lykos can with his endless wealth, but I’d be damned if I couldn’t protect her better and love her more. I know he didn’t leave the marks on her. The fact that Sebastian Lykos has been MIA speaks to his guilt, but I also haven’t witnessed Ellis take action to retaliate and stick up for his woman. I would know. I never take my eyes off him.

I’ve just finished placing our order for sweet and sour chicken and a side of dumplings that I know are Vi’s weakness. The woman can eat whatever she wants; she works out enough to burn it all anyway, but she chooses to eat healthy. However, when I’ve witnessed her splurge, it’s always on Chinese food. Yen Ching isn’t anything fancy. It’s a family-run, seat-yourself establishment, but it has some of the best Chinese food in the Bay area.

I’m just taking our drinks to the table when a hand squeezes my shoulder from behind, giving me a jolt, but it’s the voice that gives me a scare. ‘Long time no see, Car.’ Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have stopped outside the gate. I should have just kept rolling. Those damn towers see everything. Her long nails bite into my shoulder, putting my whole body on high alert. I set the drinks down before facing her and breaking our contact. Those hands are no longer welcome on my body, not that they ever really were.

‘Monica, what a surprise running into you here.’ That’s not a stretch, either. The woman wouldn’t be caught dead in an establishment like this. It’s beneath her, and she sticks out like a sore thumb, layered in her designer brands. The woman is in her late forties and has gone overboard on plastic surgery and Botox. She doesn’t do subtle, clearly, which is part of the reason her husband isn’t faithful. That, and he’s a sick depraved bastard with no soul.

‘Well, I was in the area and feeling nostalgic.’ She coos as she reaches out to touch my right arm. I can’t help it. My entire body goes rigid, and she notices because her lip quirks up in a knowing smile. Monica always did like a game of cat and mouse. I slip my hands into the front pockets of my jeans just as her hand attempts to brush down to mine. We both know that statement wasn’t about the food. She saw my Jeep and followed me here.

Right before I’m about to respond, Vi loops her arm through my left. ‘What did I miss, babe? Who is your friend?’

I want to snap my head in her direction to get a read on her antics—the nickname, the arm holding, all of it—but I’m also fucking thankful for the save, and I don’t want to tip Monica off.

Monica’s eyes slowly drag away from mine and over to Vi’s as she holds out her hand, ‘I’m Monica Sweet. I’m sure Carter’s mentioned me. And you are?’

Vi doesn’t take her hand and instead goes in for the kill, dropping her name, ‘Vivian Fiori.’ She pulls me tight to her side before using her spare hand to pat my chest and add, ‘Carter’s girlfriend.’

I have no doubt that Monica Sweet knows precisely who she is. Vivian Fiori’s name and face are now synonymous with Fiori Fashion House. For years, there was a rumor of an heir to the Fiori fortune, but no one was ever pictured, and no names were given. It wasn’t until her twenty-first birthday that she appeared on a cover of a tabloid in a bikini at her own pool party. Needless to say, everyone knew her face the next day. Aside from the clout her affluent name drips and her endless wealth, the label she put on our relationship just now is definitely eating Monica alive.

She quickly drops her hand and straightens her blazer before flipping her long fake blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘Well, Carter, you’ll have to bring your new girlfriend over for dinner so we can catch up.’

That will not be happening. Not a fucking chance in hell I’m putting her on Kyle Sweet’s radar, but that doesn’t stop me from lying through my teeth anyway. ‘Yeah, I can reach out next week to set something up.’ I don’t want to get on her bad side just yet. While I plan on returning to the Sweet Manor, it will not be for dinner; it will be to burn the place to the ground.

‘Perfect.’ She clasps her long, manicured red nails together before stepping in for a hug, only to think better of it when she sees Vi’s hand rub over my arm. ‘Okay, well, I have an appointment, so I’ll see you soon,’ she says as she pulls out her phone, slowly giving me one more full-body sweep with her eyes before turning on her heel and leaving.

The second she’s out the door, I pull Vi into me and say, ‘You have some explaining to do.’

Her eyes narrow, and she says, ‘I could say the same thing about—’

I cut her off before she can finish, halting any more words by covering her mouth with my own. I can’t help it. The confessions in the car, her touch, and the way she just handled Monica, I’m in fucking awe. I know she feels something for me, and it means everything. It’s been too long since I’ve felt anything or had someone who wanted to help me. My mouth on hers catches her off guard. Vi wasn’t expecting me to make that move. Her lips are tense, but when I tighten my hold around her back and bring my free hand to the side of her face, cradling her in my embrace, she relaxes into my arms, and when my tongue seeks entrance into that sweet mouth, she grants it. The second my tongue swipes against hers, I’m a goner. I know I’m not technically her man, and I haven’t forgotten the bullshit excuses she gave me last night about how Ellis is her man, and nothing is going to change that, but he’s not here now. I am, and she’s letting me take what’s meant to be all his.

Her warm hands glide up my chest, and for a moment, I let myself believe she wants this as much as I do, but those same hands that slowly made their way up my chest are now pushing me back. ‘Tate, stop. I was only returning the favor. You helped me all those months ago. It’s how we met. I could tell by your body language that woman made you uncomfortable. I was only trying to help.’

As I look into her eyes, I feel a slight tinge of regret tighten in my chest. I hate that she just saved me out of goodwill when my own good deed was, in fact, a setup. I hate that her first fond memory of me wasn’t authentic but rehearsed and set up because she was a job. But that wave of regret vanishes as quickly as it came when she says, ‘I want to know that story.’ She fucking cares, and that’s all that matters. I gave her pieces, and she hasn’t run yet.

‘I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you the story if you admit you might have been the slightest bit territorial just now.’

‘I was not.’ She slaps my chest and tries to wiggle out of my arms.

But I stop her, not ready to let her go, and say, ‘You’re lying. When I saved you, I didn’t call you my girlfriend. In fact, I didn’t even touch you. None of those things you did were necessary. You did them because you wanted to do them, and Vi, I know damn well you were trying that title on to see how it felt.’ And because I’m a glutton for punishment and can’t help myself, I lean down in her ear and lightly graze the shell before saying, ‘No takebacks. The title stays.’

I watch as her skin pebbles from both my proximity and the breath on her neck, and I take a second to savor the effect I have on her. Her lips can lie, but her reactions can’t. When she doesn’t immediately try to pull away, I kiss her neck and reach down to grab a handful of her perfect ass. I’ve wanted to grab it since day one, and I won’t miss my opportunity now when she’s letting me touch her.

I squeeze it hard and pull her into me, but as I do, her stomach meets my throbbing cock, and she notices. The slightest moan creeps up from deep in her chest as my arousal assaults her senses. My length pinned against her front, my mouth on her neck, and my hand gripping her tight ass. She fucking wants it, but before she lets herself have it, she pushes back and says, ‘Stop it, Tate. We’ve been over this. I’m not your girlfriend. You need to let it go.’

‘So you kiss all your friends like that?’

With a sigh, she gives me one last push, and this time, I let her go for two reasons. One, we are technically standing in the Chinese restaurant, and while we might be the only patrons in the front dining room, this isn’t the place I want to be sporting a boner I can’t do anything about. As for the second reason, I can only push her so much. I can tell I’m breaking through her defenses, and I fully intend to shatter her walls.

The bell rings, signaling our order is up, and I say, ‘I’m keeping the title, Vi. I told you last night, me and you are happening. Now sit while I grab our food, and I’ll tell you the story when I get back.’

She crosses her arms, annoyance written all over her face, before throwing herself into the chair and saying, ‘But I didn’t admit anything.’

I smirk before turning toward the counter and throwing over my shoulder, ‘You didn’t have to. That sexy little moan said it all.’

For now, I’ll take her any way I can have her, because I already know what she’s not willing to accept. She’s mine.