Page 142 of Lovely Venom

Romeo nods, and I consider one other potential lead before I go.

“She has a music box from her mother.”

“Send me some pictures.” He shrugs. “I’ll see what I can find.”

28

CHANTEL

“Are you doing okay?” Abella studies me, concern etched into her features.

“I’m fine,” I insist. “Just a little tired.”

It’s a lie, of course, but what else am I going to say? I don’t want my friends worrying about me, so I gave them the condensed version of what happened. But it isn’t just the fire or the stalker weighing heavy on my mind.

All day, I haven’t been able to erase the memory of Cristian’s face when I asked him if he planned this.

It was an impulsive response in a moment of panic, and now I’m consumed by guilt. He’s done so much for me, and deep down, I want to believe I can trust him.

Still, there’s an uncertainty I can’t escape.

He made it clear how he feels about the Greeks. When I’m near him, it’s easy to forget that. But reality doesn’t change just because I have convenient memory loss.

This should be the wake-up call I needed. Except every time I glance at his empty seat, an undeniable ache settles in my chest.

It changes nothing, though.

While I know Cristian would never physically harm me, there’s no telling how his family will feel. It would only make sense for them to question my motives and assume the worst.

I can already see it in Angelo’s eyes. Now that Cristian’s involved in my life, his brother’s suspicions of me have never been higher. And as I look around this table, it’s abundantly clear how much I have to lose.

Pain is inevitable. I learned that long ago. But I’m not sure my fragile heart would ever recover from Cristian’s rejection. Because as much as I’ve tried to deny it, I’m already in too deep.

My only options are to leave while I still can, or stay until he discovers the truth—and it shatters me completely.

“You want to watch a movie?” Abella asks.

“Can we raincheck?” I offer her a half-hearted smile. “I think I just need to go to bed.”

“Of course.” She waves it off. “Go get some rest.”

I say goodnight to everyone at the table and venture back to Cristian’s wing.

For a few minutes, all I can do is stare at his bed.

I want nothing more than to crawl in there and feel his arms around me again. But if I’m going to survive this, I have to create space.

With heavy limbs, I collect some of my clothes and toiletries and carry them down the hall. Naturally, that’s the moment he arrives home, and we come to an awkward standoff.

He looks tired, and the distance in his eyes makes me feel like I’ve already lost him.

I hate it.

I hate everything about this situation.

“I’m going to sleep in here,” I say softly, gesturing at the guest bedroom.

He nods, and we linger in uncomfortable silence until I force myself to break it.