30. Venetia
“ T he results you’ve provided are going to help me rise to the top much faster than I expected,” Lucas exclaims, his manic excitement evident as he repeatedly rolls up and down the sleeves of his blazer. The atmosphere in the room thickens with unease.
Yeah. I definitely missed this.
“We’re just a few steps away from our actual plan.” He slaps his son’s shoulder, causing a barely perceptible shudder to run through him. “You did good,” he adds, shifting his dark gaze to me. “Both of you. And, since today marks the day you’re officially engaged, don’t forget to wear your rings all the time.”
I offer a strained smile, slowly absorbing his words. Spending time with West won’t be enough from now on. I have to wear the diamond ring on my finger, too.
The worst part? I don’t want to tear it off. In fact, it fills me with warmth, especially when I glance at my fiancé and see the less flashy, yet equally beautiful, symbol of us on his finger.
Lucas continues rambling about a new strategy he and my father devised, filled with elaborate terms, numbers, and statistics, but I struggle to focus. During our trip, my thoughts were more on my relationship with West than on the purpose of our travel. The interviews and meetings felt like mere formalities we executed on autopilot, barely caring about the repercussions.
I can’t tell if he feels the same, but it truly seemed like we grew closer, elevating our relationship to a new level. Now, back in this setting with responsibilities weighing heavily on our shoulders, that brief glimpse of brightness vanishes, replaced by the familiar, nauseating routine.
The campaign. We’re doing this for the campaign.
“Your relationship is the best example we could ever hope for,” Lucas continues, growing more animated with each word. “People envy the special bond you two share, all while understanding that family happiness is what matters most to us.”
Oh, I seriously doubt they would want the kind of relationship that West and I have. I’m still uncertain about what we are to each other.
“But something’s still missing,” he adds after a pause, his lips tightening into a thin line. I shift in my chair, bracing myself for whatever’s coming next, but instead of scolding us, he turns to Chloe. “Chloe, sweetheart. You haven’t attended any of the meetings we’ve organized—not the charity events, nothing. Have you given any thought to what I mentioned?”
She pauses her nail filing, her blue eyes drifting to the table. With an annoyed sigh, she leans back in her chair, making the cushion bounce. “I don’t know what to do, Dad,” she whines. “You know I’m not good at this… business.”
It sounds almost comical when she says it, especially considering her title as Chief Financial Officer. I glance between her and West, finally grasping the dynamics at play. No matter how hard their father tries to maintain a facade of normalcy, it’s clear he holds a disdain for West while placing his daughter on a pedestal. I have no idea what fuels his animosity toward his son, nor do I care. I’m sure he has his twisted reasons.
Even now, as Chloe continues to complain, he doesn’t snap at her the way he often does with West. Instead, his tone remains composed and eerily gentle, which feels strangely out of character.
Bits and pieces of various memories flood my mind as the bigger picture gradually comes into focus. Over the years we’ve worked with them, Chloe has been tangled in countless scandals. Most of them seemed exaggerated to me, as if she were desperately trying to hype herself up and prove to everyone that she was flawless.
She’s always played the victim, and now it’s clearer than ever—just one glance, a flutter of her lashes, and the way she thins her voice are all it takes for everyone to buy into her nonsense.
She and West are supposed to be close, yet I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen them interact. It feels as though they inhabit separate worlds—hers soft and cloudlike, while his churns with aggression and misery.
“I can help you with that,” I blurt out before I even think through my words. All eyes shift to me, including West’s, who—not surprisingly—has avoided making eye contact since we arrived.
“I don’t want to do any interviews,” Chloe retorts, sweeping her disdainful gaze over me. “That’s more your thing.”
Bitch . “Not an interview—just a brief speech. That’s all it’ll take. I’ll gather some information and help you organize it. All you have to do is deliver it.”
A tense silence blankets the conference room, the ticking clock adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Lucas clears his throat and nods, finally breaking it, “That... would be fantastic, Venetia. Exactly what Chloe needs. Just don’t make it too difficult for her, okay?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle the irritation threatening to surface. It’s so unfair—she can’t even manage the bare minimum, while West has always worked himself to the bone. I’ve spent enough time with him to remember how deep and dark the bags under his eyes were—a testament to the fact that he was doing not just his job, but hers as well.
“Yes,” I say, forcing another smile. “I promise it won’t be difficult.”
“They look so much bigger than the last time I was here!” I giggle, tightening my grip on Gracie, Cleo, and Jasper as they stubbornly try to lick my face clean. Their fluffy tails wag enthusiastically, hitting my arms a little too hard. “And heavier,” I add, bending down to gently settle them on the floor. “Jesus, I feel like I’ve missed all those precious moments from their puppyhood.”
Harper laughs as she folds one of their clear blankets in half and drapes it over her arm. “Not true. Though they do grow too fast, indeed. They’ve become much more playful.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “All three of them?”
She makes a tired grimace, eliciting a chuckle from me. “All three of them.”
I can’t express how happy I am to finally visit the rescue center. Even though it’s only been a couple of weeks, it feels like ages since I was last here. The place looks mostly the same, but there are a few new animals. Most of them have already undergone the necessary treatments and are now on the road to recovery.
“How was the trip?” Harper asks, her gentle voice breaking through my thoughts. “You look much better than before you left.”
A frown creases my brow. “What?” I ask in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re saying this just to be nice, and that I actually look worse.”
She shakes her head, her hair bouncing against her cheeks. It seems shorter than the last time I saw her, and while she’s always had gorgeous long hair, this new style suits her just as well.
“I’m being honest,” she replies. “Your eyes don’t look as tired. I saw some photos online. I know judging by pictures is a bit high school-ish, but hear me out—you both look really good together.”
My heart skips a beat at her words. No matter how much I try to distract myself from thoughts of West, they seem to follow me everywhere. He’s haunting me.
“Yeah,” I respond, uncertainty creeping into my voice. “I mean… Maybe? I still don’t know how I feel about him.” I snort. “And if I feel anything at all.”
“You get so nervous whenever we talk about him. There’s definitely something there, Venetia.”
I’ve never been so confused about my feelings before. It used to be straightforward—if I liked or disliked someone, I knew immediately. Understanding my emotions wasn’t hard back then. Once, I was like a bubble filled with a whirlwind of feelings, each one driving me mad. My mind couldn’t keep up with the constant swirl of thoughts inside me. I felt so many things, and I never grew tired of it.
But then Zayden happened. During and after him, I stopped feeling anything at all. It was as if he flipped all the switches inside me that were responsible for expressing my emotions.
When I spend time with West, I feel a strange sensation stirring within me—a sensation that awakens senses that had been dormant for so long. Before this arrangement, all I felt was hate—raw and untamed—but now something else breaks through the thick veil of negativity.
His toxicity, obsessiveness, and unintentional care… They terrify me. Without realizing it, I opened a piece of my soul to him, never imagining the fallout. Now, I can’t escape the consequences—he’s all I can think about. I even devised that whole plan to frame his sister, and I don’t even know why. And it’s only a tiny part of me that he’s seen. I can’t even imagine what would happen if I let him in deeper.
I can’t allow that. I don’t want to suffer because of a man ever again. If he uncovers everything and reopens my old scars, I won’t be able to survive it. I’ll bleed out—this time, to death.
“Well, one way or another,” Harper nudges me with her shoulder, “you look better than you did with Zayden.”
The corner of my mouth twitches at the mention of him, and I swallow, my gaze dropping. I don’t like thinking about him—the wolf in sheep’s clothing who made my life so miserable that I couldn’t stop dreaming about ending it all. I’ll never forget how hard it was to wake up each day, knowing I had to play his partner again, fighting to swallow my tears every time I saw him.
I never knew I could be so weak until him.
“Any man is better than Zayden,” I say bluntly, knowing it’s a miserable lie. Because if any man truly were better, I would have found comfort in Eli or any of the other guys I’ve been with.
But only with West do I feel things I definitely shouldn’t.