Sins Of Her Venom
Chapter 86: Into The Lion’s Den

Chapter 86: Into The Lion’s Den

- Kathrine Andrews: ( Song of the Chapter: All I Need by lloyd)

The ride to the hotel felt longer than it should have. Maybe it was because my mind wouldn’t shut up, or maybe it was the way my heart kept hammering in my chest every time I remembered what she had texted me.

Please.

Just one word, but it had been enough.

Enough to make me get dressed. Enough to make me get on my bike. Enough to make me drive across the damn city when I should have been at home, pretending I didn’t care.

But I did care.

And that pissed me off.

I pulled up in front of the hotel and parked my bike, kicking the stand down before pulling off my helmet. I sat there for a moment, just looking up at the building.

It was huge.

Not just huge—expensive.

I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting when I saw the address, but it wasn’t this.

The entire building was made of sleek black glass, stretching up into the sky like it belonged to billionaires. The entrance alone had massive golden doors, and right outside, there were rows of luxury cars lined up like some kind of rich-people showroom. A couple of valets in pristine uniforms stood by, waiting to take keys from guests who probably owned private jets and wore watches worth more than my bike.

I glanced down at myself—jeans, crop top, leather jacket. Not exactly the kind of outfit that fits in here.

Still, I didn’t hesitate as I swung off my bike and headed for the entrance.

The second I stepped inside, the air changed.

It smelled expensive. Like polished wood, fresh flowers, and some kind of subtle cologne that probably cost more than my rent.

The floors were black marble, polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Every detail screamed wealth—the sleek gold and glass decor, the towering floral arrangements, the way every staff member was dressed in tailored uniforms.

I didn’t belong here.

But Glyndon did.

Of course, she did.

She had money. A family name that meant something. A life filled with privilege.

And I was here, standing in the middle of a five-star hotel lobby, because of her.

I clenched my jaw and walked up to the front desk.

A woman in a perfectly pressed black suit glanced up at me, smiling in that polite way people did when they were trying to figure out if you belonged somewhere.

"Good evening, miss. How may I help you?"

I pulled my ID out of my jacket pocket and slid it across the counter. "Glyndon Walton told me to come here."

The woman’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes flickered with recognition at the name.

Of course.

Everyone knew the Waltons.

"Ah, yes," she said smoothly, typing something into the computer. "You’re on the list."

The list.

I didn’t know what that meant, but I didn’t ask.

She reached under the counter, pulled out a keycard, and slid it toward me. "Penthouse suite. Top floor."

I stared at the keycard for a second before picking it up.

Penthouse.

Because of course, Glyndon had a penthouse suite.

Without another word, I turned and headed for the elevators.

The ride up was silent. Too silent.

I leaned against the back wall of the elevator, gripping the keycard between my fingers, my mind racing.

She had invited me here.

I had come.

What the fuck was I doing?

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open.

The hallway was quiet, the thick carpet muffled my footsteps as I made my way to the door at the very end. The numbers on the plaque matched the ones on the keycard.

I stopped in front of it.

For a second, I considered turning around.

Just walking back to the elevator, leaving, and pretending this never happened.

But I wasn’t a coward.

And she owed me answers.

I slid the keycard through the reader, and the lock clicked open.

Taking a breath, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The suite was massive.

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across one entire wall, overlooking the city skyline. The living area had plush velvet couches, a fireplace, and a bar stocked with expensive bottles of liquor. Everything was decorated in deep, rich colors—dark wood, gold accents, soft lighting.

It looked like the kind of place people rented for secret affairs.

My stomach twisted at the thought.

Then, I spotted her.

Glyndon was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked under her, wearing nothing but an oversized hoodie and a pair of shorts.

She looked up the second I stepped inside.

And she looked like she hadn’t slept.

Her hair was messy, her eyes slightly red, like she’d been rubbing at them too much.

Something inside me clenched at the sight.

I hated how much I noticed.

I hated that I cared.

She swallowed hard and pushed herself up from the couch, standing there like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

I shut the door behind me.

Crossed my arms.

Leveled her with a look.

"Well?" I said. "I’m here."

She took a shaky breath, and her fingers twisted in the hem of her hoodie.

"I didn’t think you’d come."

I scoffed. "Yeah, well. Here I am."

A beat of silence.

Then, she whispered, "Thank you."

I frowned. "For what?"

"For coming."

I shook my head, stepping further into the room. "Don’t thank me, Glyndon. Just tell me why I’m here."

She hesitated, biting her lip, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

Then, she met my gaze, eyes dark with something I couldn’t quite read.

"Because I need you."

My breath caught.

I hated how much that affected me.

I hated her.

And yet, I still stepped closer.

The moment Glyndon’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, I felt the faintest tremor in her grip. She was nervous—nervous. Almost shaking.

I could have pulled away. I could have stopped her, demanded an explanation, and made her say why the hell she had dragged me all the way here just to act like a blushing mess.

But I didn’t.

Because I was curious.

So I let her pull me through the suite, her grip tightening slightly like she was afraid I might change my mind and walk away.

She led me through a wide hallway, past doors that probably led to more ridiculously luxurious rooms until we reached one at the very end. She hesitated for a second, her fingers twitching against mine. Then, with a breath, she pushed the door open and stepped aside, letting me see inside.

I blinked.

The room was gorgeous.

Soft, warm lighting. A massive king-sized bed draped in rich, dark silk sheets. Candles flickering on the nightstands and dresser, casting a golden glow over the space.

And flowers.

Everywhere.

They covered the bedside tables, the dresser, and even the floor in scattered petals. Roses, lilies, delicate white blossoms I didn’t even know the names of.

My stomach twisted at the sight.

It was romantic.

Too romantic.

I turned to look at Glyndon, my expression unreadable. "What the hell is this?"

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she swallowed hard, avoiding my gaze, and mumbled, "S-So would you like to take a bath?"

I stared at her.

"What?"

Her fingers twisted together, her face already flushing. "A bath," she repeated. "I—I thought maybe you’d like to relax before we... before anything..."

She was stuttering.

I’d never seen Glyndon Walton stutter before.

She was a mess. A cute mess.

And I hated that I thought that.

But instead of pressing her for an answer, instead of pushing her, I just let out a slow exhale and shrugged.

"Fine. Whatever. I’ll just let you do... whatever this is."

Her entire body sagged with relief, and before I could second-guess myself, she grabbed my hand again and guided me further into the suite.

We passed the massive bed, and the candlelit dresser, and then she led me to a door on the far side of the room. She pushed it open, and I found myself staring at the most insane bathroom I’d ever seen.

It wasn’t just a bathroom.

It was a fucking spa.

The bathtub wasn’t some basic thing against the wall. No, this was a sunken, oversized tub in the middle of the room, its edges lined with flickering candles, the water already drawn—steaming.

Like she’d planned this way before I even got here.

More flowers decorated the space, their scent mixing with the soft lavender-scented steam curling through the air. A glass shelf on the side held fluffy white towels, and a robe neatly folded on top.

I let out a low whistle.

"Wow," I muttered. "You went for it, huh?"

Glyndon, still visibly nervous, just shifted awkwardly beside me. Then, after a second, she motioned toward something on the bed.

I turned my head—and froze.

Laying on the silk sheets, folded so perfectly it was almost insulting, was a delicate, silky robe.

And right next to it?

A matching set of lace panties and a bra.

My size.

I stared at them for a second, then slowly turned my gaze back to her.

Her face was already turning red.

"What the fuck," I said, voice flat. "How do you know my size?"

Glyndon visibly gulped, shifting to her feet. "I—I just... I mean, I guessed?"

I arched an eyebrow. "You guessed?"

She turned an even deeper shade of red. "W-Well, I have touched your body multiple times, so I just—"

I smirked.

She immediately clamped her mouth shut, her entire expression a mix of embarrassment and horror.

"Oh?" I drawled. "So you’re saying you’ve been memorizing my body?"

"I—! I wasn’t—!" She cut herself off, groaning as she covered her face with both hands. "I just guessed okay?! Forget I said anything!"

I laughed.

I laughed.

It was so ridiculous. The entire thing was ridiculous.

But I didn’t push her anymore.

Instead, I walked over to the bed, picked up the lace set and the robe, and turned back toward the bathroom.

"Okay then," I said simply.

She peeked at me through her fingers. "Okay...?"

"I’ll take the bath," I told her, stepping into the bathroom. "Since you went through all this trouble."

Before she could say anything else, I shut the door behind me.

The bathroom was silent except for the faint crackling of the candles and the gentle ripple of the steaming water.

I set the robe and underwear down on a nearby chair and walked to the tub, dipping my fingers into the water.

It was perfectly warm.

Of course, it was.

I sighed, peeling off my clothes, and letting them drop to the floor before slowly stepping into the tub.

The heat wrapped around me instantly, sinking deep into my muscles, and easing away the tension I hadn’t even realized I was carrying.

I let out a slow breath and leaned back against the edge, closing my eyes for a moment.

The water smelled faintly of lavender and something else—something sweet. Glyndon had thought about this.

Why?

That was the question I kept coming back to.

Why was she doing all of this?

What did she want from me?

I didn’t have an answer.

So, instead of thinking about it, I let myself relax, sinking deeper into the water, letting the heat the scent, and the flickering candlelight lull me into a rare moment of peace.

Even if it wouldn’t last.