Page 103 of Venomous Desires

My head snapped at the living nightmare sitting on the couch with his legs widened and back resting smugly against the leather. One arm sprawled over the edge of the couch, while in the other hand, a picture was capsized between his fingers. He was now wearing his casual clothes, grey sweatpants and a thin cotton shirt in the cold, whereas I felt my bones shaking, looking like a man highly composed- normal, even.

But there was nothing normal about him.

Even from a distance, the danger radiating from him was tangible, aiming like daggers at my chest. His expression remained neutral, a mask more terrifying than a smirk, for I knew the horrors it concealed. Beneath that façade lurked a killer—a lethal, cold-hearted predator who wouldn’t hesitate to obliterate anything or anyone in his path. His scrutinizing gaze was fixed on the photographs in his hands, assessing me with unnerving intensity.

My heart pounded erratically as I forced my shaky legs to carry me closer, momentarily pushing aside the instinctive fear his presence evoked. The only thing that mattered now was the faces in those photos—the familiar faces of my mother, my deceased father, and my little brother, Mikhail.

I knew I shouldn’t jump to conclusions or snap at him, shouldn’t allow myself to tremble before him. But Judas Romanovski was a storm, and I was merely the fragile vessel caught in its unrelenting fury.

“Why… why do you have these?” My voice wavered, but Ididn’t stop at the other side of the table. My legs wobbled as I crouched down, collecting the pictures with trembling hands. I swallowed hard. They were indeed my family’s pictures. Anger surged through the fear, throbbing and intense, and I glared at him. “You promised you’d keep them away if I agreed to your terms.”

“You haven’t agreed yet.” His cold voice sliced through my chest like a blade.

He leaned forward, the shadows deepening around his eyes, turning them into dark abysses. “Promises are fragile things, Ptichka, easily shattered. Like bones.”

I shivered as I clenched my fists. “But you said—”

“I say many things,” he said casually, flipping the photo in his hand. Photo of my brother.

I stared at him in disbelief. Did that mean he’d hurt my family? No. No way I’d let him do that. I had spent all my life wanting to be with my family and become my mother’s little helper, and now he wanted to ruin that for me. I didn’t even want to ask why he was doing this, knowing his answer would be as twisted as his soul.

I flinched as he shifted, leaning over my crouched frame. His presence was suffocating, a reminder of how tall and broad he was, how his physique could consume all the air and life around him. His shadow swallowed me whole.

“Do you want to see them safe? Do you want to see them untouched?” His fingers brushed a stray strand of my hair; the motion was tender. Almost. “Then give me what I want. Surrender.”

His words wrapped around my throat like a noose, tightening with every syllable. I could feel the icy tendrils of his manipulation, perfectly designed to break me, to bend me to his will. I didn’t know why he suddenly was making me go through the same torment he did two days ago, or why he was startingthe same conversation when he gave me four days to prepare.

My breath hitched. Or was it… because he saw me with Ivan. I knew men like him could be extremely unbearable and possessive, believing everything they set their eyes on belonged to them, but I kept that thought at the edge.

“No,” I whispered, more to myself than to him, trying to summon the strength to defy him. “I won’t let you.”

He chuckled sinisterly, the sound settling in my bones hauntingly. “Oh, but you will. You’ll do whatever it takes to protect them. You’ll become my puppet, dancing to my every command.”

His eyes bored into mine, and the vortex of darkness pulled me in.

I realised I had no choice.

This was the game we played. And he’d always win. But to me, this was a game. This was survival. And in this world, survival was cruel. It was merciless. Just like him.

I wanted to scream, to lash out, but I knew it would be futile. My only hope was to steer his storm, to survive his wrath, and pray that somehow I could protect the ones I loved.

“You’re a monster,” I muttered. So, he was ready to stoop this low.

He smiled, which never reached his eyes. “Indeed. But I’m the monster holding the strings. Dance for me, or watch your world burn.” And then he ruffled my hair. I winced. “And this was the end of your third day. Tomorrow night, be ready, Ptichka. My dick’s ecstatic to meet your cunt.”

Chapter 37

The Predator

She winced, and I let my lips curl. The defiance, the fire, and the burning rage in her eyes turned me on. How much I’d love to stomp on the remnants of her courage. The brave face she put forward, though she was nothing.

Eyes fervently locked on mine, refusing to look away. Brave little thing, but I could see the fear hiding behind that defiance. It thrilled me and sent a shiver down my spine. Hell, I wanted to break her.

I leaned in closer, feeling the heat radiating off her trembling body. Her scent filled my nostrils—fear and something else. Something sweeter. I could almost taste it. My tongue traced my lips, savouring the thought of what was to come.

“Still fighting?” I whispered, letting my breath tickle her ear. Her eyes widened slightly, just a flicker, but I caught it. She was scared, oh yes, but still trying to hold on. Pathetic. Beautiful. She didn’t know that resistance made it all the more enjoyable.

I brushed my fingers down her cheek, feeling her flinchunder my touch. So fragile. So easy to break. I could already imagine her on her knees, begging, her voice cracking as she pleaded for mercy. But there would be none. Not from me.