Page 160 of Lovely Venom

“Wherever he is, he’s reassessing the situation and adapting his strategy. He won’t give up.”

“He made that pretty fucking clear.” Romeo sighs.

“Hey.” A soft knock draws our attention to the door, where Chantel is standing in one of my T-shirts and a pair of shorts. “You weren’t in bed. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Everything’s good, gattina. I’ll come back with you now.”

I close my laptop and glance at Romeo. He nods, a silent agreement that we’ll resume this later. It’s already light out, and neither of us has slept.

I meet Chantel at the door, and she lets out a yelp when I lift her up and haul her off.

“I can walk, you know.”

“Can you?” I arch a brow at her. “Then I guess I didn’t fuck you hard enough earlier.”

“I guess not.”

She laughs, and it’s such a rare sight to see her so at ease, I can’t look away.

We’ve fallen into a routine while she’s been here, and she’s getting more comfortable. But that edge of anxiety persists. Something still weighs heavy on her mind, and she’s not ready to trust me with whatever secrets she’s been carrying.

It’s a source of tension, but every day it feels like we move a little closer to the goalpost. She no longer panics about the idea of us together, and she’ll even admit she can’t fall asleep without me now.

I’ve been waiting until I know she’s down for the night to slip away and continue the hunt for Elias. She appears to have figured that out now, and she confirms it when I lay her back in bed and pull her against me.

“You’ve been doing this every night, haven’t you?” Her fingers trail over my forearm, tracing the scar from the boat incident.

“It’s just until we find him,” I assure her. “I’d much rather be in bed with you.”

“I know.” She rolls over to face me. “But at least let me help.”

“I don’t want you exposed to that.”

“There must be something I can do.” She worries her lip between her teeth.

“You can keep doing what you’re doing and not worry about it.”

“Says every Mafia man ever.”

“All I want is for you to relax.” I brush her hair back and stare into a sea of endless green. “I’ll carry the hard stuff now, baby.”

“God, you can’t say things like that,” she whispers.

“Why?” I graze her lips with mine. “Because you like it?”

She nods reluctantly. “I’ve worked really hard to become this version of myself. I don’t want to lose her.”

“I’m not trying to take anything from you, cara.”

“Then what are you trying to do?” she asks, an undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice.

“I’m trying to give you everything,” I murmur. “If you’ll let me.”

Her throat works as she closes her eyes. “I’ve built my life from the ground up. I learned how to survive on my own. I don't want to get too comfortable and then have the rug pulled out from under me.”

“Look at me.” I tip her chin up.

She does as I ask, and watching her surrender never loses its grip on me.