What a fucking shame.
But the next morning, he called me and apologized. He said he should’ve punched that asshole and paid more attention to me. He sounded genuinely sorry about what happened, and it made me feel a little better.
After all, IchoseEli. I choose him every day. Every couple has issues, but that doesn’t mean it’s worth destroying the relationship. For years, I’ve avoided real relationships with men, too afraid to commit, breaking their hearts and shattering their dreams when they hoped I’d stay after the wild night. I’ve always gotten what I wanted—taking complete control and pushing myself to the edge, without caring at all about their pleasure.
It’s been a fun way to live, but everything has its end. Now, I want to try and build something with Eli.
I’m drawn out of my thoughts when West walks out of the house. He looks better; the blood has at last stopped running down his face. I watch as he approaches Noah, mumbling something to him. He runs a hand through his hair before grabbing a glass of something—probably bourbon, judging bythe color—and plopping down on the couch near the pool, not far from where I sit.
Discomfort creeps in as I tear my gaze away from him and redirect the conversation with Grace to something trivial. I could really use a distraction.
But I can feel his eyes locking onto me, intensifying. I’m unsure of what he thinks he’s doing, but I don’t fucking like it. I’d much prefer it if he ignored me like usual.
What he’s doing feels like a provocation, a challenge, a test of my patience. I could snap and say something nasty to him, but that’s exactly what he wants. West thrives on this kind of tension, and I refuse to fall into his trap.
I angrily scoot to the corner of the chair, letting my hair fall over my face to shield myself from his gaze and offer him a glimpse of my ass instead.
I only realize how stupid I amafterI do it. But I can’t keep sitting up straight; his penetrating stare is too much to bear.
Grace keeps babbling about something insignificant when laughter erupts from our left side, cutting her off. She turns at the sound, looking anything but annoyed. Instead, a smile blooms on her face, and I instinctively glance over to see what’s made her so happy.
But it’s nothing special. The joke that once amused them has lost its charm for West, who now watches Noah doubled over, shaking with laughter. Drowning his bourbon in one gulp, he snaps his eyes back to me, and I lose the last of my patience.
Leaping up from my chair, I turn on my heel and storm into the house, forgetting about my friend. I feel his stare pierce my back, fueling my anger to an indescribable degree.
I’ve put up with this shit long enough, and since I still have some free time, I want to spend it the wayIwant.
The smellof medicine hangs in the air, painfully puncturing my lungs and instantly gripping my chest with worry. Usually, this place carries a different scent—a mix of wet fur and wood—which signals something significant.
Someone new has arrived, and they’re definitely in bad shape.
I pull the hood off my head and quietly close the door behind me. Taking a few careful steps forward, I peek around the corner of the corridor. The moment Gracie spots me, she jumps off her little bed, her nails clicking against the polished floor as she races toward me. Cleo and Jasper notice me right after, mirroring her excitement as they bound over.
A smile breaks across my face as I drop to my knees, arms wide open to welcome their little bodies. They slam into me, wet tongues darting out to lick my fingers and the fabric of my hoodie before they reach my face.
I laugh, gently pushing them back as I rub their bellies. “How are you doing, little babies?” I ask, leaning in to press a kiss to each of their noses. “You’re getting bigger and stronger, aren’t you?”
“Venetia!”
I turn my head at the sound of my name, my smile still in place as I spot Harper, the manager of this rescue center. She watches me with amusement, but a hint of worry lingers in her eyes. “You’re getting dirt on your clothes, and none of them have had their bath yet.”
Jasper captures my attention as he sinks his teeth into my sweatpants, grunting with effort as he tries to rip the fabricapart. His teething began not long ago, and since then, he’s become an uncontrollable menace, biting literally everything in sight.
“I don’t care about my clothes,” I reply calmly, watching as the worry in Harper’s eyes disappears. “Where’s his Fuzzball?”
She tilts her head as she rests against the wall. “He tore it apart this morning. I’ve never dealt with a hurricane like him. I don’t even know if it’s worth giving him another.”
I snort and rub Jasper behind the ear before flipping him onto his back and quickly rubbing his belly to divert his attention from his destructive urges. My eyes catch a wet stain on the side of my sweats, along with a few small puncture marks from his teeth embedded in the fabric. Laughter erupts in my chest before I can suppress it, and I stand up, earning a half-bark, half-cry of disapproval from the puppies.
“I thought you had a party today,” Harper says as I step closer, turning my attention toward her. She looks worn out, her blue eyes framed by dark circles that contrast with her light smile as she tucks a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “We would’ve prepared if we’d known you were coming.”
I playfully roll my eyes at her and place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle nudge. She says the same thing every time I walk in, fully aware of how ridiculous it sounds. I opened and funded this animal rescue center four years ago, as soon as I had enough money to sustain it. It remains the only source of joy and fulfillment in my life—a secret haven where I can stop pretending and truly be myself.
Helping and caring for someone brings a sense of unconditional love—a thing I’ve never felt before.
No one, except my dad and the employees here, knows that I’m the owner of this place. Officially, it’s all Harper’s property—a detail I arranged to ensure nothing happens to this sanctuary. I was raised to keep my chin high, show no emotions, and pleaseeveryone but myself. If the outside world knew what I was doing, it would ruin the carefully constructed image I’ve built over the years. Society would still love me, of course; that won’t shatter the mask I wear in public.
But my business partners? They would lose their perception of me—the cold, ruthless businesswoman I am now. In a world full of sharks ready to bite off your limbs the moment you let your guard down, even a glimpse of softness can be dangerous.
