Page 73 of Lovely Venom

Angelo doesn’t look remotely happy about this turn of events, but he agrees nonetheless.

“I’ll be downstairs when you’re finished,” he says.

Bastien and I take a seat in my office, and it’s obvious he has something on his mind. But he waits for me to begin, listening intently as I bring the focus back to what’s important.

I reiterate that this deal isn’t just about shipping access. It’s about power in numbers, expansion into new territories, and profit margins.

Reframing the negotiations, I remind him of our reputation and assure him that our word is our bond. It’s a quiet way of letting him know this doesn’t have to involve a marriage contract.

Bastien sits with that for a while before he responds.

There are times he can be difficult to read, but right now, there’s no question he sees my resolve. He addresses it the same way he approaches all business—subtle, but calculated.

“You know, Cristian, I feel as if we’ve come to understand each other. In many ways, you remind me of myself. Perhaps that’s why I like you so much.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He sips the whiskey in his glass, leaning back against the chair as he assesses me. “I’d like to share a story with you, though you may find it difficult to believe, knowing me as you do now.”

I nod at him, and his eyes grow distant as a wistful smile overtakes him.

“There was once a time in my life when I chose passion over logic,” he says. “Her name was Evelyne, and she was the kind of woman who could tempt a man into sacrificing everything.”

He pauses, losing himself for a moment in the memory. “My family told me she wasn’t cut out for our world, and deep down, I knew that. But I convinced myself desire alone could make it work.”

“I take it that wasn’t the case,” I remark.

“No, it wasn’t,” he answers solemnly. “Desire couldn’t keep her warm at night when I was fulfilling my duty to my family’s legacy. She wanted more than I could reasonably give, and I needed something she couldn’t reasonably offer. Eventually, she grew tired of waiting around, and I came home to an empty house.”

“This life isn’t for everyone,” I concede.

“No, it’s not,” he agrees. “But that was another lifetime ago, and I have Dominique now. She may not make my heart race the way Evelyne did, but she’s right for me in all the ways that matter. She knows what this world entails, and she doesn’t ask for more than I can give. Politically, she’s an ally. If you saw the way that woman could charm an entire room, you’d be amazed.”

“I don’t doubt it.” I scrape a hand over my jaw, keenly aware that this isn’t about Evelyne or Dominique.

It’s about me, which means he’s either discovered my proximity to Chantel through his own research, or his daughter told him about her.

“There’s a reason men in our position choose compatibility over distraction,” he says. “We build empires on legacy. The woman who stands beside you will either solidify your foundation—or destabilize it. Dominique has given me four children and the freedom to do as I please. For that, I’d choose her again in every lifetime.”

I meet his gaze, offering him a silent indication that I understand. Truthfully, a contractual partnership is what I always imagined for myself. But hearing him describe his marriage in such a way, it makes me question whether his wife could truly be happy with their arrangement.

She may be the woman he comes home to, but she’s also the woman who has to turn a blind eye to his affairs.

She’s the woman who, in his mind, will always be second best.

He told me this story with the intention of changing my mind. But it’s only given me another reason not to tie a noose around my neck.

“Shall we call for Angelo?” he suggests.

I nod, and after a quick conversation with Angelo, he tells us to meet him on the rooftop terrace.

When we arrive, I observe that security has halved the number of guests that are typically allowed up here. I suspect that was intended to reduce the noise, but it’s done very little in that regard.

Between the pool and the music, it’s still a club.

This wouldn’t have been my first choice for a meeting, but as we pass by the guests in bikinis, Bastien seems to approve.

Angelo directs us to one of the VIP lounges, and I grimace when I see what’s waiting there. Dozens of candles flicker throughout the space, casting a soft glow over an elaborate spread of wine and desserts.