Page 126 of Venomous Desires

Maybe, just maybe, he’d get bored. Maybe this would all end, and I could piece together the remnants of my life. But even as I thought it, doubt slithered into my mind. What if he didn’t? What if I had never been more than a pawn, trapped in his sick version of a fairy tale?

I stilled, my breath hitching as panic clawed at my chest. The voices in my head grew louder, echoing all the possibilities I didn’t want to confront. No, I couldn’t let myself spiral. There was no way he’d...

But the thought trailed off, incomplete, as fear settled deep in my gut. I didn’t want to go there. Couldn’t. I had to focus on what I could control, no matter how small it seemed.

After what felt like an eternity under the water, I forced myself to shut it off, leaving the bathroom behind with a sense of finality. Each step back into reality was like stepping onto glass; every movement sharp and cautious. The clothes he’d left were a strange comfort, grounding me in the present, in the act of getting dressed. But the pain in my foot was a constant reminderof my fragility, my helplessness in this situation.

As I dressed, I tried to push away the dread clinging to me. I needed to act normal, or at least something close to it. I couldn’t afford to show weakness, not when I was constantly being watched and judged. But no matter how hard I tried to put on a brave face, the fear lingered beneath the surface, a dark cloud that I couldn’t shake.

I caught my reflection in the mirror, and the girl staring back looked like a ghost of who I used to be—pale, eyes wide with worry, lips pressed into a thin line. This wasn’t me. It couldn’t be.

But it was. And no amount of pretending could change that.

The dread settled deeper as I finished dressing.

The sweater was the perfect fit, and so were the jeans, but that I was wearing nothing underneath them was bothering me. At least they were better than the towel.

I moved back to the table, picking up the phone again. It felt cold in my hand, offering no comfort, no connection to the world I was desperately missing. Just silence.

Without thinking, I tapped in my mother’s number. Muscle memory. The one number I knew by heart, the one link to the life that felt like a distant memory.

It rang. And rang.

The seconds stretched, the panic coiled tighter in my chest until it felt like I might choke on it.

When the line finally clicked open, I nearly dropped the phone.

“Hello?” Her voice, familiar and grounding, brought tears to my eyes. But I couldn’t let them fall. Not now.

“Mama.” The word came out shaky, barely a whisper. And I knew I’d cry. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the couch.

Whatever happened in the last few weeks came crashing down, but I bit my lips hard to not cry.

“Sera, is that you? What’s wrong?”

Everything. Nothing. I didn’t know where to start. My grip on the phone tightened as I fought to find my voice, to pull myself together. I had to be strong, even if I felt like I was crumbling.

“Are you okay?” Her concern sliced through me, a painful reminder of everything I was keeping from her. “You said you’d be home, but your college called saying you had an emergency.”

Chapter 49

The Prey

Why aren’t you home?” she pressed.

“My flight got delayed,” I lied. “I’ve been caught up with a few things.”

“I figured.” She sounded relieved. “Your professor called. He said you won some kind of prize. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. I just wish you’d come home for a week.”

My breath caught.

“A prize?”

“Yes. We even received a hundred thousand in our account.” She laughed softly. “You saved me from worrying about—”

The rest dissolved into meaningless noise.

A prize.