Page 136 of Venomous Desires

The sudden ringing of the phone broke the silence. I froze, the sound jarring, before recognizing the number. It was my mother. Relief washed over me, though it was tainted with a dread I couldn’t shake.

I answered, my voice strained. “Hello, Mama.”

Her voice came through, warm and bright. “Darling, I received more money today! Thank you, thank you so much. I’m so proud of you, working so hard.”

The words stabbed at me, sharp and merciless. How could I tell her? How could I explain that the money she praised was a poison, that I hadn’t earned it, but sold pieces of my soul for it?

I swallowed, my throat tight. “I’m glad you’re okay, Mama.”

She continued, oblivious to the pain in my voice. “I was so worried when you left, but now… now I see you’re doing well. It means everything to me.”

I wanted to scream, to tell her the truth. That I wasn’tworking, I was surviving. That this money wasn’t earned, it was thrown at me, soaked in degradation. But the words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t destroy her happiness, her pride in me.

“I’m doing what I can,” I said instead, hating myself for the lie.

“You’re my brave girl,” she said, her voice full of love. “I know you’ll go far.”

I couldn’t bear it. “Mama, I—”

She cut me off, her tone light. “Don’t worry about me, darling. I’m fine now, thanks to you—“

Her words drifted into the background as a sudden chill ran down my spine. My body stiffened, and so did my thoughts. I was facing the glass window, but I could tell… the monster was here. I didn’t have to look back. I knew he was there.

The lump in my throat became hard to swallow as I lowered the phone. My mother’s voice still could be heard through the phone, but I couldn’t care less. Clearing my throat and taking a deep breath, I turned my head to meet his pale, indifferent gaze.

The kind that always froze me.

I saw him last night sitting on a chair. And somewhere I fell asleep and couldn’t recall when he left. My broken foot was an excuse for him to not touch me, and I was glad he at least let me have this time to myself.

Pale eyes moved to the phone in my hand, and I quickly cut the call. I’d make an excuse later. I didn’t know what he was here for, so I kept sitting and just staring at him.

Judas let his eyes take over me with that shameless expression. “I’m leaving for Italy,”

I blinked, processing his words. “Oh.”

“Tomorrow.” His gaze didn’t waver. “I’ll be gone for some time.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “Alright.”

“You’ll have this apartment to yourself.”

The relief that should have come with his words was tainted by suspicion. “For how long?”

He shrugged, a casual gesture that belied the weight of the situation, and walked towards me. “As long as it takes.”

I didn’t dare ask what “it” was. Instead, I nodded, unsure of what else to say.

He took a step closer, and I forced myself not to move, not to show the discomfort that pulsed through me. His eyes locked onto mine, searching, calculating.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he added, his voice dropping a notch. “I’ll be back.”

Judas’s words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. His presence had a way of turning even the most mundane statements into something sinister.

He moved closer, each step deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. I didn’t flinch, though every instinct screamed at me to do so. His eyes, cold and calculating, never left mine. They were the eyes of a man who saw people as possessions, and I was no exception.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he repeated, his voice now a low, almost dangerous murmur. “I’ll be back.”

He was close enough that I could smell the faint trace of his cologne, something dark and overwhelming, much like him. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against my cheek, sending a jolt through my body. But it wasn’t affection—it was ownership, a reminder of what I was to him.