Beautiful Venom: A Dark Hockey Romance (Vipers Book 1)

I made a miscalculation.

To be blunt, I fucked up. Big time.

I sit on the edge of the bed, where Dahlia sleeps soundly, her face relaxed and peaceful, except for the mascara smears around her eyes.

Soft mumbles leave her parted mouth, and I can’t resist stroking her lips, her jaw, and her cheek. No matter how much I touch her, it barely scratches the surface of my deviant fixation.

I could swallow her the fuck up and it’d still be a far cry from enough.

Dahlia leans into my touch, stroking her cheek against my palm as a moan leaves her lips and lodges itself deep in my chest.

Something is wrong with the fucker—my chest—because it’s moving. I probably need to consult with my doctor and have him check what the fuck is wrong with my head while he’s at it.

Because I truly and undeniably fucked the hell up.

It’s been a couple of hours since I drove her back to my place. She fell asleep in the car and didn’t stir when I carried her in my arms and tucked her in bed.

Usually, Dahlia sleeps in a fetal position, making herself as small as possible, but right now, her arms are thrown out on either side of her, taking up most of the bed. Almost like a child who’s exhausted after a busy day out.

Is it because she feels safe?

Because she’s tired?

Whatever the reason, I appreciate the view. And I like her here. In my bed. My space. My life, even.

I like it more than I believed would be possible.

Which is also part of the reason why I fucked up.

Last week, I thought I could cut things off without looking back.

I thought if I chopped off the branches, it’d all be over, but I failed to realize that she left her roots somewhere I didn’t know existed.

I thought I could threaten my teammates to stay the fuck away from her while ignoring her. They all know not to touch, flirt, or even talk to her outside of work-related issues.

Just because I let her go didn’t mean she was a free pass for them.

However, Dahlia had other plans and forced my hand.

She knew the one spot to hit with all her might—my illogical possessiveness toward her. And she didn’t pick just any guy to flaunt in my face.

No.

She went straight for the jugular and brought the one guy I already knew she’d dated. The one guy I saw her flirting with at my fucking game.

And she did that while looking mouthwatering in a dress I bought her, intending to rip it off her body.

When Osborn tilted her head back, his lips hovering an inch away from hers, I forgot about all the reasons why I should stay away from her.

I forgot that my father would kill her just to teach me a lesson.

I forgot all the mantras I kept repeating to myself about a greater purpose and higher fucking goals.

At that moment, all I wanted was to claim her and kill Osborn—which I would’ve done if Preston hadn’t interfered.

I couldn’t even wait to get her somewhere out of view. I had to own her then and there.

Make her mine again.

Only mine.

But now that the possessive edge has lessened, reality hits me, and I can’t ignore it anymore.

Dahlia Thorne has become a weakness.

One my father can use to dismantle me.

One that’s able to destroy all my plans.

But letting her go and allowing other fucks to touch her is out of the question, so I need to devise a plan to protect her.

I stand up and fetch my phone. After closing the bedroom door as softly as possible, I head to the living room and dial a number I thought I wouldn’t need this soon.

The town’s bright lights fill the distance as I stop by the floor-to-ceiling window, listening to it ringing.

He finally picks up, a sound of shuffles echoing on his end as he lets out a groan and speaks in a husky tone, “Ever heard of a thing called sleeping time?”

“Nice to hear from you, too, Uncle. I’m glad you missed me.”

“I’d miss you more during reasonable hours.” He lets out a sigh. “What do you want?”

“Your help.”

The sound of steps padding across the floor stops, and a long silence stretches between us.

“Since when do you ask for help?” he asks slowly, all sleep gone from his voice.

“Since I made a miscalculation.”

“Explain.”

I tell him about the Dahlia thing, and how the very fucking fact of her existence is ruining all the strategies I devised to bring Grant down.

So now that I’ve decided to keep her, I’m unsure whether or not I can proceed with my agenda. Uncle Kayden knows I’ve already won over half of the board members and that I’m working on the other half.

It was supposed to be a matter of months before I snatched the reins of power and brought back Uncle Kayden and all the other family members—mostly women—that my father kicked out.

Once I graduate and become a Founder member, I’d turn the tables on Grant, facilitate his being voted out by his own people, and then take over. Little by little, I plan to undo all his decisions and rebuild the Davenport name the way I see fit.

Truly, it’s Grant’s fault for having me be so involved in the company. He wanted to train me properly, but I’ve been using that chance to corner him.

My uncle listens without interrupting. While Kayden is Grant’s younger brother, they couldn’t be any more different. They also never really liked each other.

Since Uncle Kayden caused quite a stir last year and got banished from the organization and the state, he’s lucky to be alive.

But then again, his much younger menace of a boyfriend, Gareth, wouldn’t allow it and provided him the protection of the Russian mafia.

Also, even though Kayden got banished from Vencor, he still owns half of the Davenport empire. He has considerable influence over directors and would take my side when it’s time to bring Grant down.

“You know the precise solution to this clusterfuck,” he says after I finish talking.

“I’m not letting her go.”

“I was going to suggest neutralizing her.”

My fingers tighten around the phone, wishing I could reach the other end and punch him. “That won’t be happening.”

“She’s a weakness that will cause your downfall.”

“Just like Gareth was.”

“That’s different. Gareth is self-sufficient and comes from a strong family that would start a war to protect him. She’s a nobody. Grant knows that and will eliminate or use her to cage you further under his thumb.”

“You’re underestimating her.” Dahlia might not have Russian mafia ties and come from an empire like Gareth Carson, but she’s the strongest person I know.

She’s been through so much shit, but she’s always, without fail, bounced back up, ready for another fight.

“You’re overestimating her.” Kayden’s deep voice carries in the silence like a knife. “You’re also presenting your weakness to Grant on a silver platter. Take my advice and eliminate her before it backfires. If you can’t kill her, send her to a different coast or, better yet, country. If you care about her, surely you know she won’t survive in that world. Do you wish to create another version of your mother? An aimless ghost who survives on pills and talks to fish?”

“She’s not Helena.”

“Right now, she’s not. Do you think Helena was always like that? She used to be cheerful and antidepressant-free. She used to have a soul, but it was crushed into the dust of time. Just like everyone else’s.”

“That won’t happen to Dahlia,” I insist in a clear voice, even though his words stab me in the chest. “If you’re done being a pessimist, I have a plan I need your help with.”

“Which is?”

“I’m going to throw Grant a bone, give up some influence in the upcoming business deal I’ve been planning in secret in exchange for him staying away from Dahlia. I want you to approve it.”

“Fucking fool.” His voice vibrates with disapproval. “If Grant knows you have a card up your sleeve and you’re willingly giving it up for her, you’ll prove that she’s not only a weakness but also someone he can use to manipulate you.”

“By that time, I’ll be out of his control.”

“Highly improbable. If anything, once you reveal a card, he’ll be extremely wary of you.”

“Doesn’t matter. I know how to deal with him. Just tell me, will you help?”

“Suit yourself.” There’s movement on the other end.

A low male voice carries from my uncle’s side, and I assume it’s Gareth. “Who are you talking to this early?”

“Nephew,” Kayden says in a softer voice, and I can almost see his smile.

My uncle doesn’t smile, not much anyway, but he seems to be always in a good mood if Gareth is around.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he says in a low, gentle tone.

“Mmm. Not alone.” Gareth’s husky, sleepy voice sounds closer. “Hey, Kane. How are you? Still kicking ass in hockey?”

“Yeah, as usual, Gaz,” I say with a smile. I like him, mostly because he makes my uncle happy, despite all the shit they went through.

“His name is Gareth,” Uncle grumbles in my ear.

I had a bit of a whiplash when I met them for dinner one time. My uncle—who people compare to a stoic, emotionless robot—nearly chased me away because his man was talking to me longer than he liked.

Which was five minutes tops.

I hear a rustle from his side and a small hum before he says, “We’ll talk again at a reasonable hour. In the meantime, think carefully about the clusterfuck you’re getting yourself into because of a girl you’ve only just met. Is she worth it?”

After my uncle hangs up, I stare at the town for what seems like hours, contemplating his last question.

Logically, Dahlia is not worth it. She’s a hassle and brings nothing to the table.noveldrama

She’s not even part of Graystone’s elite, like Isabella or any of the other girls vying for my attention, who I could use in my power play.

But fuck if I can use logic when it comes to her. I tried that before and it only backfired.

My phone lights up with notifications from the group chat.

Jude

Pres? What did you do to Osborn?

@Kane Davenport, why the fuck did you leave him to his own devices? I’m absent for two fucking hours and all hell breaks loose?

Why did I leave him again? Right. I lost access to my logic and forgot the simple fact that Preston has been volatile as fuck lately, specifically since the forest hunt.

Preston

Reporting live from the latest crime scene, bitches.

Jude

JFC, what the fuck did you do now?

Preston

I only do genius things.

Jude

Pres, don’t make me come there and strangle you.

Preston

Chill. It’s nothing serious. Unfortunately.

Jude

You didn’t do something stupid to Osborn?

Preston

Stupid is your middle name, not mine.

Jude

I swear to fuck I’m going to beat you to a pulp.

Preston

Scared to my nonexistent core. Brb, calling my mommy as we speak. Wait. I don’t have one.

Jude

Be serious for three fucking seconds. You know we’re not allowed to hurt Osborn. At least, not yet.

Preston

Yikes. Must’ve missed the memo.

Jude

Don’t tell me you killed him?

Preston

He’s still polluting the earth with his existence. For now. More importantly, you have a hunt coming up, big man? I could use a purge.

Jude

@Kane Davenport?

Preston

Probably too lost in pussy to see straight.

Me

Not yet. Save that energy for the next game.

Preston

Boo, everyone join me in calling Kane a fucking killjoy.

---

They’re both typing when slender arms wrap around my waist and the scent of jasmine fills my nostrils.

Dahlia’s breasts press against my back as she rests her cheek against my shoulder.

I let the phone hang in my hand as her presence invades my senses until she’s the only thing in my surroundings.

Her soft breaths, her warmth, and her gentle curves mold to me so naturally, as if she always belonged here.

With me.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks in a groggy voice.

“I’ll be fine. Go back to bed.”

As I face her, she stumbles, her movements sluggish, and I grab her by the waist.

She wraps her arms around my neck, and then this fucking woman who could barely stand jumps and encircles my waist with her legs, and I have to support her back so she doesn’t fall off.

Dahlia smiles, looking like a fucking goddess even with the messed-up mascara and ruined makeup. “Come to bed with me.”

I raise a brow. “Is that an invitation?”

“We can have sex later. Now, I just want to hug you.”

Fucking hell.

What can I even say to shit like that?

Instead of speaking, I walk her to the bedroom and start to lower her to the bed, but she doesn’t let me go.

So I lie down on my side and Dahlia buries her face in my neck.

“You’re awfully clingy today,” I say against her hair.

“Nope, this is the right amount in a relationship.” Her lips brush against my throat with each word. “I think.”

“So you’re not sure?”

“I’m a beginner, but I think so are you?”

“Yeah, I don’t do relationships.”

“Awesome. That way, you’ll consider this the standard. Just so you know, I’m going to annoy the hell out of you.”

I chuckle. “More than what you’re already doing?”

She lifts her head and studies my face with wide eyes, the green killing all other colors.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing. It’s just too rare to see you laugh genuinely.” She grins. “It makes me happy.”

“My laugh makes you happy?”

“Mmm. Because I’m the reason.” She strokes the back of my head. “I’m glad you didn’t let me go.”

“You forced my hand into a relationship. Is that really what you want?”

“It is.” A delicate frown creases her forehead. “If you discard me again, I’m walking away. For good. If another woman touches you, I’m also out.”

“You’re the one who had your fucking arm around Osborn, Dahlia.”

“And Isabella had her claws all over you.” She narrows her eyes. “Did you fuck her?”

“You think there’s another woman who can handle me?”

A smug look covers her features. “Well, you better remember that.”

I fist her hair and jerk her back. “And you better remember you’re fucking mine.”

“Okay, caveman.”

“And if this is an attempt to weasel your way into Vencor again, that’s out of the question.”

Her throat works up and down and I release her hair.

“I understand.”

Silence beats like a presence as she shifts. “Kane?”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you ask me about my real reason for wanting to get in? You must’ve figured out it’s not for some vain purpose like status or power.”

“If I ask, will you tell me?”

“Maybe one day.”

I nod.

She doesn’t need to tell me. Not really.

Because it doesn’t matter. Now that she’s mine, nothing and no one will change it.

“I just want you to know I didn’t mean to use you.” She swallows. “Maybe that was true initially, but I just want to make this thing between us work right now.”

“Me, too, Dahlia.” I stroke her back. “Me, too.”

She smiles, her eyes so bright, I want to fucking engrave them in me. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“What’s with this all of a sudden?”

“I want to get to know you better. I’ll go first. When I was younger, I wanted to be a rich lawyer who used my money to do as many pro bono cases as possible. I wanted to focus on those who were failed by the system.”

“But you chose medicine. Why?”

“Because Violet has always had poor health. I wanted to take care of her.” A sheen of sadness flickers in her eyes, turning them a turbulent yellow. “Not that it matters much right now.”

“How did you come to care about a non-blood-related person this much?”

“Vi is my world. You don’t need blood to care. If anything, some blood relations are like a curse.”

“Touché.”

“I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“It’s fine. You wanted to know something about me? My father considers me a machine instead of a son.” The words carry in the silence, loud and heavy. “I’m not allowed to lose, mess up, or humiliate the Davenport name. If I do, he’ll make sure I remember it, preferably with a physical or psychological scar.”

Dahlia shifts until her face is close to mine. “Can’t you cut off your relationship with him?”

“No.”

“Why? Are power and money more important than your well-being?”

“It’s not about power and money. What I have in mind is more valuable.”

She palms my cheek. “There’s nothing more valuable than yourself, Kane. Why can’t you see that?”

I take her hand and slowly lower it. Partly because I’m not entirely used to her touch and it’s burning my skin.

“I have it under control.”

She makes a face. “I hate that word. I also hate that you’re so closed off sometimes.”

“You hate so many things about me and yet you still want a relationship with me?”

“I know, right? I’m thinking about changing my mind.”

“Too late. You’re not going anywhere.” I lift her chin and kiss her. Slowly. I take my time, not feeling the imminent urge to fuck her just because I’m touching her.

I’m only staking a claim.

Proving that this girl is mine.

To answer Uncle’s question, she’s, without any shadow of a doubt, worth it.

Even if it destroys me.