Sins Of Her Venom
Chapter 88: No More Hiding

Chapter 88: No More Hiding

-Kathrine Andrews: (Song of the Chapter: Let Me Love You by Ariana Grande)

Glyndon stood there, wringing her hands, shifting her weight like she was working up the courage to speak.

I waited.

Watched.

Enjoyed the sight of her struggling to put her emotions into words.

Then, finally, she took a shaky breath and said, "I broke up with Alex."

I blinked, tilting my head. "I know. He already told me."

She hesitated, caught off guard. "He... did?"

I smirked. "Yeah. He and my brother were practically giggling about it, trying to convince me I should be thrilled or something."

Her face burned red. "Oh."

I crossed my arms, watching her carefully. "Why’d you do it?"

She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.

Then, slowly, she stepped closer, her voice quieter this time.

"Because I want you."

I clenched my jaw.

Something in my chest twisted.

I knew that. I knew that, but hearing her say it out loud, with that look in her eyes—raw and vulnerable and desperate—made it harder to breathe.

I scoffed, masking the way my heart was pounding. "And what, you expect me to just forgive you now? To trust you after everything?"

Glyndon flinched.

"I—no. I mean—" She ran a hand through her hair, looking frustrated with herself. "I know I don’t deserve that. I know I’ve done nothing to earn your trust, and I know you don’t owe me anything, but—"

Her voice broke.

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaled sharply, and then looked back at me.

"I am trying, Kathrine. I know it’s late. I know it’s messy, but I—" She exhaled, shaking her head. "I broke up with Alex. I told him about you. I chose you."

I froze.

She took another step closer. "I didn’t tell him everything. That’s yours to tell if you ever want to. But I told him that I want you. That I care about you. That I’m not confused about it anymore."

My stomach tightened.

I hated how much I liked hearing that.

How much I wanted it to be enough.

But it wasn’t.

Not yet.

I held her gaze, studying her, searching for any sign of hesitation, any sign that she would crack under pressure.

"You chose me?" I repeated, slow and deliberate.

She nodded, her hands trembling slightly. "Yes."

I let the silence stretch between us, let her squirm beneath the weight of it.

Then, finally, I spoke.

"Then prove it."

She stiffened. "H-How?"

I leaned in, lowering my voice to a whisper. "You want me? Do you want a chance with me? Then show me."

Her breathing hitched.

"I don’t want promises, Glyndon." I took a step closer, watching the way her body tensed, the way her hands clenched at her sides. "I don’t want pretty words. I want actions. I want to see that you’re serious. That you’re brave enough to want me outside of a hotel room. Outside of the dark."

Her eyes darkened with something intense.

"I am serious," she said, voice firm despite the nervous energy rolling off her. "Just... tell me how."

I let my gaze trail over her, taking in the way she was barely keeping herself together.

Then, I smirked.

"Let’s start with something simple."

I stepped back, grabbed my phone from the nightstand, unlocked it, and held it out to her.

"Take a picture with me."

Her brows furrowed. "What?"

I shrugged. "If you’re done hiding, take a picture with me."

She hesitated, staring at the phone like it was a loaded weapon.

Her fingers twitched.

I arched a brow, waiting.

Then, after a long beat, she swallowed her nerves, stepped forward—so close I could feel her warmth against me—and grabbed the phone.

And with trembling hands, she lifted it.

Snapped the picture.

And let out a slow, shaky breath as she stared at the screen.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against her ear.

"See?" I whispered, feeling her shiver. "That wasn’t so hard."

But when I pulled back to look at her, I saw something else in her eyes.

Determination.

Resolve.

This was just the beginning.

Glyndon stared down at the picture, fingers tightening around my phone. Her breathing was unsteady, but there was something fierce in her eyes now—something different.

I smirked, tilting my head. "Well?"

She glanced at me, lips parting slightly like she wanted to say something, but then she just swallowed and looked back at the screen.

"You’re making me work for this, huh?" she muttered, half to herself.

I shrugged, crossing my arms. "Damn right, I am."

She let out a slow exhale, then—without hesitation—she tapped the screen a few times.

My heart slammed against my ribs when I saw what she did.

She set it as her lock screen.

I blinked. "You didn’t just—"

She turned the phone around so I could see it.

The picture of us, clear as day, is displayed on the screen for anyone to see.

A slow smirk curled at her lips. "Happy now?"

I scoffed, pretending my heart wasn’t threatening to punch a hole in my chest. "Please, that’s the bare minimum."

Her smile widened just a little, like she saw right through me.

Fucking hell.

I tore my eyes away and walked toward the small dining setup she’d prepared—candles, expensive food, actual effort—and ran my fingers over the smooth edge of the table.

"So," I said, keeping my tone light, "who did you rob to afford all this?"

Glyndon snorted, setting my phone down. "Would you believe me if I said I had some money saved up?"

I arched a brow. "No."

She sighed dramatically. "Okay, fine, Dad gave me this Hotel. I only let important people in this penthouse."

I let out a short laugh. "And I’m an important person?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, you are."

I paused.

For a moment, I couldn’t say anything.

She wasn’t even being smooth about it. Wasn’t flirting, wasn’t trying to be cute.

She just meant it.

And for some fucking reason, that made my throat tight.

I grabbed the nearest chair, plopped down into it, and crossed my legs, trying to look unimpressed even as my heart was still hammering.

"Well, since you went through all this trouble..." I gestured toward the food. "Might as well eat."

Glyndon let out a small, relieved laugh and took the seat across from me.

For the first few minutes, we just ate in silence. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was... weirdly nice.

Then, after a while, Glyndon put her fork down and looked at me seriously.

"I know this doesn’t fix anything," she said quietly. "I know I have a lot to prove to you. And I will."

I swallowed my bite of food and leaned back in my chair, watching her. "You say that, but what happens when things get hard? When people start asking questions? Are you just gonna pretend this was a phase and go back to being normal?"

Her jaw clenched. "No."

I tilted my head, unconvinced. "No?"

She shook her head. "I won’t go back. I’m not confused anymore, Kathrine."

I stared at her, trying to find cracks in her confidence, trying to see if there was even the slightest hesitation in her words.

But there wasn’t.

She was fucking trying.

And I hated how much I wanted to believe her.

I exhaled sharply and looked away, grabbing my glass of water just to have something to do.

"Alright then," I murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. " whatever you say."

I didn’t look up, but I felt her smile.

Glyndon met my eyes, and for the first time since I’d known her, she looked terrified. Her fingers twisted nervously in the fabric of her robe, her lips parted slightly like she was still trying to decide whether or not to say what was on the tip of her tongue.

Then, in a voice that was both steady and shaking at the same time, she said, "I’m gay."

I froze.

It felt like the whole world had gone silent like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

She said it. She fucking said it.

For a second, I just stood there, waiting for the punchline, waiting for her to take it back. But she didn’t. She just sat there, breathing hard, looking at me like she was about to lay every last one of her secrets at my feet.

And then she did.

"I never liked it when Alex kissed me," she said, her voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. "I hated the way his beard rubbed against my skin. I hated that when I kissed him, he would wipe away my gloss instead of leaving it there. I get it—he’s a guy, and most guys don’t wear makeup, but I wanted him to. I wanted to see it on him and know that he didn’t care. But he did. Men always did."

She exhaled shakily, shaking her head. "And when he touched me... when he pulled me against him, it was always muscle. Hard, solid, wrong. I wanted soft skin. I wanted to feel a woman’s body against mine."

My stomach clenched, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

"I never..." Glyndon swallowed, glancing away for a second before looking back at me. "I never finished with him. Not even once."

I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care. But for some reason, that made my chest tighten.

She sucked in a breath, then suddenly blurted out, "I used to stare at your ass every day."

I blinked. "What?"

She let out a nervous, breathless laugh, running a hand through her hair. "I watched how your skirt wrapped around your perky ass every damn day. And every time you got mad at me, every time you looked at me like you wanted to kill me, all I could think about was how much I wanted to see you bent over and—"

I held up a hand, my cheeks burning. "Okay. Enough."

But Glyndon wasn’t done.

"It turned me on when you choked me," she said, her voice dropping, eyes darkening with something that made my breath hitch. "I liked it when you touched me in the janitor’s room. I liked it when you touched me in the shower, I liked what you did with me in the church even though I acted like I didn’t."

I swallowed hard, heat creeping up my neck.

"I liked how you watched me," she whispered. "I liked how you stalked me."

I clenched my jaw. "I didn’t stalk you."

She just smirked, her confidence returning for a brief second before she bit her lip, hesitating again.

Then, in a voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear it, she said, "I liked how you fucked me with your strap."

My pulse pounded so hard I swore she could hear it.

I didn’t move. I didn’t even breathe.

Her eyes flicked up to mine, dark and full of something I wasn’t ready to name. "I liked it when you rubbed your pussy against mine."

I felt heat coil low in my stomach.

"I loved everything," she admitted. "And I still want more."

I just stood there, my heart hammering in my chest, my head spinning.

I should say something.

I should say something.

But all I could do was stare at her, completely, utterly fucking speechless.