Page 10 of Lovely Venom

Marco has always been a man who needs validation, but I’ve never seen him act like this toward Cristian, and I have to assume it’s because he’s drunk.

If he had two functioning brain cells, he would not be challenging his friend, and especially not Cristian Vitale. While Marco may be rich and his family name carries a lot of weight in this city, there’s no question Cristian could squash him like a bug if he started a rift between them.

Eventually, Marco backs down, and Cristian levels him with his icy gaze before he walks away without another word.

I’m still staring after him, trying to make sense of what just happened, when Marco grinds his erection against me.

“Let’s go upstairs and fuck,” he growls.

“What is wrong with you?” I try to extricate myself from his grasp, but he tightens his grip on me.

“What’s wrong with me?” he mocks. “How about the fact that my girlfriend’s acting like she wants to whore herself out to my friends in front of everyone? Do you have any idea how that made me look?”

My stomach revolts at his words, and for a second, I’m too shocked to respond.

Marco has said and done some stupid things before, but most of it was harmless. He’s never called me names, and he’s never looked at me the way he is right now. After his standoff with Cristian, he wants to stake his claim on me, whether I like it or not.

I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or if he’s just become a completely different person, but I don’t even recognize him anymore.

Either way, I want nothing to do with it.

“Let me go.” I steel my voice, even though my heart is racing.

“You’re not walking away from me,” he bites out. “You fucking started this.”

“I didn’t start anything, and I don’t want to have this conversation right now.”

“You were so desperate for some attention a few minutes ago,” he sneers. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll give you some.”

There’s no mistaking the implication of his words or the bruising grip on my arm. He wants me to pay for this perceived slight, and I can only assume this is a result of his increasingly fragile ego. Regardless, he won’t be taking it out on me.

“Marco, you’re hurting me,” I say, loud enough for his friends to hear. “Let me go.”

“You owe me this,” he hisses in my ear. “I haven’t touched you in months.”

“I don’t owe you anything, asshole.” I shove at him. “Leave me the hell alone.”

He grabs my face and forces me to look at him, and for a split second, I think he might actually hit me.

“Marco, come on, bro.” One of his friends intervenes. “You’ve had too much to drink. Just let her go. Everyone’s watching.”

Unsurprisingly, that last part is the thing that gets through to him. Because at the end of the day, what Marco cares about most is how people perceive him. And when I glance around, I realize his friend is right. Everyone is watching, including Isobel. She looks pissed, and the only reason she’s not over here already is because Libby is holding her back.

When Marco finally releases me, it feels like everyone takes a collective breath. They might not like me, but even for them, Marco’s behavior right now is a step too far.

I scrap any thoughts of telling him it’s over because I’m not putting myself at further risk right now. But as I try to leave, he follows me.

“Chantel,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m sorry. Let’s just go up to my room and talk.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you.”

“Just stay the night,” he bargains. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

Despite my best efforts, a laugh escapes me. “Five minutes ago, you forgot I even existed. I think it’s best we keep it that way.”

“You just need some time to cool off,” he grits out. “Why don’t you go to the guest room, and I’ll come up when the party’s over.”

“The party is over for me,” I tell him. “Stop following me and let me leave, or I’ll really make a scene.”