Sweet Venom: A Why Choose Romance

‘Out of all the men in the world, these are the three you choose?’

Of course, we couldn’t drive in silence. I’m not sure why I didn’t see this coming. Probably because I just needed to get out, and at the time, my grandmother felt like the better evil. There was no way I was staying in that condo. I fucking gave my heart to three men—not one but three—and they all managed to break it. Stupid fucking heart.

‘Look, Grandmother, I don’t care to discuss my love life with you. We both know out of all the people in this world, no one in our family is capable of understanding the meaning.’

She taps her long, manicured nail on the clasp of her Birkin bag and thins her lips before saying, ‘I suppose I can see why you would think that. God knows your parents loved in the ugliest of ways, but it seems you have yet to learn that love doesn’t choose wrong; people do. All those men chose to love you even though they knew the pain was inevitable. You were looking for love to hurt, and that’s what you found. Now you’re running.’

It’s those last words that piss me off. I’m not running. At least, that is not how I see it. I’m allowed to feel hurt. I’m allowed to take a minute to assess my feelings and my own heart. I’m allowed to be mad. I may not have grown up with love, but I know it’s not easy, and it hurts more than it has any right to. I can see now why people run from it and how it can make a sane person mad. Self-preservation is a basic human instinct, and what I felt back there was pain, so naturally I removed myself from the situation.

‘Look, if you really don’t want to discuss it, that is fine, but don’t make rash decisions out of anger. I’d hate to see you end up like your father—which is why I’m here.’

I should have known that’s what this visit was about. We haven’t spoken since the day I forfeited my inheritance, and if I had to guess, that’s why she’s here now. She must have just received the memo that I’m washing my hands of the Fiori fortune and all the ugly that comes with it.

‘If you are here to get me to change my mind regarding my inheritance, you’re wasting your time. It’s done. I signed it all over.’

She folds her hands in her lap just as the car comes to a stop outside her hotel. I don’t make a move to get out. I assumed she followed me to ensure I was okay, and a shared car ride accomplished that, but no.

‘Get out of the car, Vivian. You’ll be staying with me tonight.’ Great.

‘Rise and shine.’ Indie throws open the black-out curtains that were allowing me to block out the day I know I’m wasting away. The truth is, I’ve been up for the last hour, but I’ve been dreading a conversation with my grandmother. I have enough on my plate with the three men currently clawing at my heart, without whatever nonsense brought her to my doorstep. If I had to guess, it’s related to my father, and honestly, I’m surprised it took her this long to piece together what I did.

‘I’ve had clothes brought up; they’ll be placed on your bed as soon as you shower and clean yourself up.’

Sitting up, I rub my eyes as they adjust to the sun now streaming through the windows. ‘What time is it?’

‘It’s noon,’ she says pointedly before adding, ‘I’ve ordered lunch. Please make yourself presentable and meet me in the dining room in twenty minutes. It’s time we talked.’

Tearing the covers off with a groan, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stare down at the floor. I feel completely drained. Yesterday was a complete mind fuck all around. While I’m not happy to be here with my grandmother, I’m glad to be away from my men. I needed to clear my head and listen to my heart. Indie was right. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into with all of these men, and she was right when she said I was looking for love to hurt. Hurt is what I know; hurt is what I’m good at, but I’ve been patient. I’ve endured. And now, ‘someday’ has finally arrived, and that pain that threatened to consume me has become useful. It is because I’ve suffered that I know what love is. The ones who hurt us the most are often those we love the most. Because of them, and the unyielding ache in my heart, I know what we share is love.

I’m freshly showered when I finally examine the stack of clothes my grandmother ordered from the boutique across the street. When I lift the bra and panty set up, I’m relieved to find jeans and a blouse. I don’t have it in me to dress up, but her choice in my attire is somewhat foretelling. This may be a goodbye visit, since she’s not worried about my appearance. If she planned on being seen with me today, I’m sure this would be a dress. When your name is synonymous with a high-end fashion brand, you must always be on your game to keep up appearances. You’re a walking billboard. You are the brand. My lungs deflate as a wave of relief settles upon me. This is no longer my cross to bear. I’m free. The scars of my past tell a story, but they don’t define my future. I do, and it’s not Fiori.

The table is filled with more food than two people can possibly eat when I reach the dining room. Mini sandwiches, salads, soup, and desserts. My stomach growls loudly as all the aromas assault my senses. I’m fucking starving. I don’t bother with pleasantries; this is goodbye anyway. Fuck it. I grab a plate, load it up with five ham and cheese sandwiches, and grab a bowl of what looks like some sort of cheesy soup for dipping. My ass hasn’t even fully sat on the chair before my lips are wrapped around an impossibly huge bite of ham and cheese. ‘Mmm,’ I hum as I get my next bite ready to dip. My grandmother notices that I haven’t even swallowed my first bite when I bring up the next.

‘Please, eat. I have no problems waiting until you’re through.’

My chewing slows as I fight my intense desire to roll my eyes. While we may not have the best relationship, I respect my elders, and honestly, any resentment I have toward her is my own. There’s a difference between cruel and cold. She was the latter. I reach for a glass of water to wash down the enormous bite in my mouth. I don’t wish to delay the inevitable.

‘I assume you’re here because you discovered I walked away from my inheritance.’

Her eyes hold mine and slightly narrow as she studies me, looking for what; I can’t tell. The woman wears a mask of indifference at all times. Finally, she drops her eyes to find her tea and says, ‘Among other things, but since you brought it up, let’s start there.’

Rather than let her recant what she thinks she knows, I cut her to the chase and start. ‘Look, Grandmother, I want nothing to do with my father’s money. I took it selfishly out of spite, thinking it would make me feel better knowing he hated that I had it, but the longer I had it, the more it made me like him. It’s part of him, and I don’t want it.’

I watch her purse her lips, clearly unhappy with my desire to wash my hands of the Fiori name. Then, setting down her tea, she says, ‘Well, that’s one way of looking at it, but your father did not amass the fortune built on the back of the Fiori name. He was simply born into it. Our wealth started generations before he was born, and your Grandfather and I turned it into the brand it is today. So, you see, you could look at it like it’s his, but it’s not. It’s mine.’

I’ve never thought of it that way, but it doesn’t change anything. ‘Either way, it’s done. I forfeited my rights and handed it back.’

She tops off her cup of tea and sets the pot back on the table before saying, ‘That’s where you are wrong. You don’t get to walk away from your birthright. Your Grandfather ensured it.’

This time, I don’t bother swallowing before responding with a mouthful of ham and cheese in my mouth. ‘What are you talking about? I signed the documents. I witnessed my parents celebrate my exit on Julian’s desk—’

She scowls and cuts me off. ‘ Vivian, stop. I know what your father did. I’m very disappointed in the choices my son made. His selfishness, greed, and envy were more than deplorable. It was wickedly cruel. I understand why you cut your parents out of your life, but this is not something you can wash your hands of. The second your father got word that you had inquired about drawing up a disclaimer, he had his lawyers start the paperwork to contest your portion, and while he’s smart when it comes to money, and has lawyers on payroll, I’m smarter, and mine are better. He was so eager to cut you out and take what was rightfully yours that he failed to realize that he forfeited his own the second he tried to come after your shares.’

She drinks her tea like the news she just laid on me was no big deal. If I thought my father despised me before, I know he more than loathes me now.

‘You see, your Grandfather put a strict no-contest clause in his will that stated anyone who so much as tried to challenge validity or fairness would automatically lose their own. The only way around the clause was death, and you, my dear, are very much alive.’

My eyes widen on that lost note. Great. I’m not sure I believe my father to be a murderer, but he already loathed my existence because it threatened what was his; what I don’t understand is, why now? ‘Why are you telling me all of this now? You’ve clearly known this information for months.’

‘I wanted to see what he would do. I wanted to see if being stripped of such vast wealth would change anything. Even without his inheritance, your father was still a wealthy man. He had his investments and his salary from sitting on the board. I knew he’d be enraged at first, but I was hopeful time might change things. I was also very aware of what happened between him and your mother when you showed up to forfeit your rights. A small part of me hoped that a reckoning would occur with their reunion. For the first week, he was completely unhinged. I had security detail assigned to monitor him around the clock to ensure he wouldn’t be a threat to you.’

When she pauses, I see the smallest of cracks in her armor. Her eyes drop again to her tea, but the slight tremble in her fingers tells me something is wrong. Indie Fiori is ruthless. Nothing rattles her. That perceived unease sets off alarm bells and has me asking, ‘So, that’s why you’re here now? You believe he will come after me, and I need a security detail.’

Her dark brown stormy eyes find mine, and she says, ‘No, you have nothing to fear. Not anymore. Julian Fiori is dead.’

‘Come again?’ After everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours, I feel like I’m walking a fine line between sanity and psychosis. There is no way those words are real.

I’m rubbing my temples, trying to digest the enormity of everything she just said, when she adds, ‘Your father is dead. Your mother killed him right before she took her own life.’

My stomach churns as my mouth starts to fill with saliva. I look over, see a trash can next to the butler’s pantry, and make a bee-line, falling to my knees just in time. My body expels all the sandwiches until there’s nothing left in my stomach. How could I not have known my parents were dead? Why would my mother do this after all this time? I saw them in the local papers walking hand in hand through downtown St. Charles when I returned home to sell off my assets. The fuckers were happy.

I crawl back over to the table and grab a napkin to wipe my mouth before reclaiming my chair and asking, ‘When did this happen? Was there a note? I don’t understand. I was the thing that kept them apart. I left the damn state.’

‘The maid found them on Sunday. I’ve paid a lot of money to ensure I control what the media puts out regarding his death. As of this morning, a statement was released saying Julian Fiori was found unresponsive in his home Sunday morning. The cause of death is still under investigation. I can’t tell you for certain what went on behind closed doors. The events following your departure kept us more apart than ever. As for a note…’ She trails off before slipping an all-too-familiar piece of paper from underneath a napkin.

‘She did leave a suicide letter of sorts, if you will.’ Her brow rises as she holds a powder pink piece of paper folded into the shape of a heart between two fingers and adds, ‘I think you might know it.’ Then she slides it down the table for me to take.

Dear heart,

You tore my family apart,

We are now broken and missing parts.

Why can’t you find it in you to care?

Aren’t you always supposed to be there?

Maybe it’s there I need to go

Because it’s where the tears won’t flow,

And if it’s time to say goodbye

Then I won’t feel so bad inside.

She’s right. I do know it because I wrote it. When I was ten. A million memories of the countless hours I spent in solitude under my father’s roof settle on my chest, the weight threatening to steal my breath, but before it can consume me, my mother’s handwriting catches my eye. At the bottom of my letter, she wrote:

No amount of words or penitence could ever be enough. It’s too little too late. I didn’t know, and now that I do, I can’t go on.

I pull in a deep breath before looking back to my grandmother and asking, ‘Do you know how she got this?’

It’s a valid question. The journal this note was stuck in was one I kept at my father’s place. It was hidden under a loose board in the window seat I would sit in for hours as I stared out at the backyard wishing for a new life. I wasn’t allowed to have anything in my room, but I remember one day I was able to sneak a journal in when one of his girlfriends distracted him. I doodled in it for hours. Every page of that journal was filled with words and pictures that I created in my head. My thoughts were the only companion I had while at his place. While I often wished for death, I never considered taking my own life. I simply dreamt of a life where I didn’t exist. I was tired of being hurt by those who were supposed to care and love me most. At some point, you wonder what you are fighting for. I couldn’t think of anything I would miss, and that’s where those thoughts came from.

‘Your mother moved into Julian’s house a week before their bodies were found. If I had to guess, the discovery of your room took her by surprise. I’m sure you are more than aware that your family made a great deal of saying nothing. I believe your parents thought you lived a very different life when you were not under their respective roofs. I think your mother thought you were living a privileged life while at your father’s house and resented you for it. In her eyes, you stole her man and got to live her life and vice versa. Their bodies were found in your old room. From the way the room looked, it appeared they were renovating it. I think your mother found that journal and couldn’t live with the truth of what had really happened.’

Rising from my chair, I say, ‘If that’s everything you came to tell me, I’d like to go now.’

I don’t care to hear any more thoughts that seek to pardon their treatment. Am I supposed to automatically forgive, all because my mother did the ultimate act of repentance by taking her own life? I never would have asked for such payment.

When my grandmother says nothing. I turn and leave without a word. I refuse to be guilted into forgiveness.

‘I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Charlie. You realize this is ridiculous, right?’

‘I know, I know, but I’m freaking out. I took a test this morning when Mason went on his morning jog, and it was positive. It was hard not to say anything when he returned, but I wanted to be absolutely sure. Do you have any idea how many times people get false positives?’

I tear off the wrapper on a pregnancy test as I sit in a stall next to Charlie in my locker room before replying, ‘Charlie, I’m pretty sure you’re confused. False negatives are a thing, not the opposite.’

I hear her huff out a breath of frustration before asking, ‘Are you peeing?’

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m trying. You do realize I’m doing this for you with a crowd full of people outside, right? Plus, I didn’t really have to go. My nerves are shot, between the opening, my parents, the guys…’ I trail off before finally sprinkling a few drops onto the stick. It’s Opening Day, and everyone is here. I was mingling and talking with guests and reporters when she pulled me aside and said she had an urgent matter to discuss. The pressing issue being that she’s pregnant and maybe in denial.

‘I know. I’m sorry. You have a lot going on. I’m being incredibly selfish.’

I flush the toilet and exit the stall. ‘No, Charlie. You’re important to me. Your reasoning is slightly impaired, but the growing fetus in your womb is probably taking all your extra brain cells.’

She comes out of the stall and slaps me on the shoulder before washing her hands at the sink beside me. ‘It is not. This makes perfect sense. If your test looks like mine, that means I’m not pregnant and that I was just reading it wrong.’

‘Why didn’t you just buy the tests with words instead of lines?’

‘Because I snuck it into the basket when Mason wasn’t looking. I didn’t have time eye which one I was selecting.’ She shoulder-bumps me and catches my eyes in the mirror. ‘Thanks for doing this for me. You’re a good friend.’

I’ve never been good with sentimental stuff. Charlie knows this, so I give her a clipped smile and change the subject. ‘So, how long do we have to wait?’

‘Not long. They’re probably ready now.’

We both stare at each other in the mirror and suddenly, I am nervous. Why am I fucking nervous? I’m on the damn pill.

‘Don’t look. Just pick it up and we’ll count to three and look down at the same time.’

We pick up our tests, and she starts, ‘One…two…three!’

Both of us look down simultaneously, but when I do, it’s clear Charlie lied. My test does, in fact, have words. Words that read, PREGNANT.

I hear her audibly gasp next to me as my eyes stay glued to the test in my hands. I’m pregnant. I feel her hands rub my shoulders, and it’s then that I notice her test sitting on the counter with the words, ‘Not Pregnant.’

‘This was a setup.’ It’s not a question but a statement. She set me up.

‘Please don’t be mad at me, Vivi. You know how Mason is. He was worried after you passed out Friday night, and so was I. That’s when I started putting things together: your headaches, the blood sugar spell, the fatigue you’ve been telling me about the past couple of days, and don’t even get me started on your appetite. I saw you at the appetizer table out there.’

I back away from the counter and move to sit on the bench. I’m not scared of the word. I’m afraid of how it will change things.

‘Vivi, talk to me. What are you thinking? I know you haven’t spoken to Ellis, but I promise he’ll be a great dad. It is Ellis’s, right?’

‘Yes,’ I answer without thought before adding, ‘I mean, I don’t see how it couldn’t be. Tate and I only started sleeping together last week, and Sebastian and I have only slept together twice.’

A knock on the door to the bathroom has us both glaring daggers at the door. I locked it when we came in to ensure we had privacy. ‘Hey, can we keep this between us? Please.’

She reaches for my hand and squeezes it, her eyes full of empathy when she says, ‘Yeah, of course, but you know Mason and I are here for you. Whatever you need. You don’t have to leave the house. Take your time, but don’t shut us out. We love you, Vivian.’

I nod and say, ‘You should probably go unlock the door. I’m sure it’s Mason wondering why the hell you’re taking so long.’

She smiles as she moves toward the door. ‘You know him so well.’ Before she can answer, the person on the other side bangs louder. ‘I’m coming. I had to put my panties back on first,’ she jokes.

Shit, I really hope it’s Mason and not some blogger doing a piece on my gym. But when she opens the door, it’s Ellis. Charlie glances back at me, and I give her a nod; she opens the door, allowing him to step in as she exits.

It’s only been two days, but he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. His long hair dusts his shoulders in unkempt waves, his usually smooth face has the beginnings of a beard, and those diamond eyes that pierce my soul have dimmed. I stand from my place on the bench and all but run to him, needing to get lost in his scent and wrapped in his warmth. He opens his arms all too eagerly, requiring all the same things from me.

I hear him breathe deeply against my hair as he nuzzles his face into my neck and says, ‘Tell me, Vivian. Tell me you’re ready to come home, because if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me, I need you to let me go.’

His words all but break my heart. I know what I want. Hell, my heart knew what it wanted before my mind would allow it to exist. I want three men, three beautifully broken men. But we’ve barely existed in peace. If I look in my heart and past the ugly that threatens to steal the light, I believe that Tate may have set out to use me to get to Ellis. To seek retribution for the loss of his parents, but somewhere along the line, he fell. I know it and believe the same can be said about Sebastian. He wanted to hurt me for hurting him, but ultimately, we only hurt each other.

However, I don’t know if any of that matters now. How could it? Our future has never been sure, but I can’t help but feel as though whatever could have been may soon be gone. I know what my choice will be. It’s theirs I’m unsure of.

‘Ellis, I said that I loved you, and I’ve never stopped, not for one damn second.’

He takes his head out of the crook of my neck to grasp my face in his hands. ‘Why does it feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?’

I can’t help but close my eyes, too scared to find an answer in his with the news I just learned. When my parents found out about me, it ruined everything, and I’m not ready to lose any of them. I release my hold around his waist and drop my eyes to the stick I’ve held clutched in my hand.

‘Vivian, please—’ his words die when he notices the object in my hand. He quickly swipes it out of my fingers. ‘Baby, is this real?’ His hand finds my chin as he tilts my face toward him. ‘Tell me it’s real. Tell me you’re having our baby.’

I nod emphatically, my nerves stealing my words, and the next thing I know, he’s scooped me up into his arms and is twirling me around the locker room. His excitement is contagious. I knew I wanted this baby from the moment I read the words, but knowing he’s all in too means everything, even if the rest is unclear.

‘You’re coming home tonight. If you’re still mad, you can be mad from your room, but you will be in our house. I won’t take no for an answer. I love you, and you love me. We’ll figure out the rest.’ And because it’s Ellis, and he bends for me, he rests his forehead against mine and kisses my lips softly before adding, ‘Say okay.’

‘Okay.’