AUTHOR’S WORDS:
TO ALL MY GOOD GIRLIES WHO FELL FOR THEIR DARK RUTHLESS STEP-BROTHERS, TWO TIMES THIER AGE. AND TO ALL THE BAD GIRLIES WHO INDULGED IN FORBIDDEN ACTS DESPITE KNOWING THE DANGER THAT LURKS IN THE SHADOWS. THIS ONE IS FOR YOU. ~~~~~~~~~ HAZEL'S POV All my life, I have always thought that the devil is cruel and evil, but growing up and experiencing what real evil and cruelty entail, I've come to the conclusion that humans are more evil and dangerous than the devil himself. We humans would do whatever it takes to survive, even if it meant killing others or ripping them of their rights, just to satisfy that greedy and selfish interests of ours. “Your step-dad is dead,” Mom said over the phone without a sign of empathy or whatsoever. She was so point-blank that I wouldn't have believed that the same man whom she announced his death so easily was once her husband for ten fucking years. My step-dad who treated me like his own daughter, even more than Mom could ever. He made sure I never missed the presence of my biological anonymous father after being classified as a bastard child by my Mom. Lorenzo Veneti. The father I never had. I sucked in a deep breath just so I could suppress the burning rage inside of me. The rage which was obviously directed at the woman who birthed me. “How could you say that so easily?” “Were you expecting me to be crying and wailing over a dead man?” Jesus Christ…. This woman never ceased to make me question if she was really my mother or I was adopted at birth. “Mom….” I drawled, trying to make her understand the weight of her words. “What Hazel? What do you want me to do? I'm not one of those pathetic women who cried over the death of their husband. After all, Lorenzo is old. He deserved to die.” My pupils dilated at her words. How could a wife say that about her late husband? “You're pathetic, Mom. I wish I never came out through you.” I seethed. Anger, hatred, annoyance clawed at my chest. “Yes, I'm pathetic. It still doesn't change the fact that I won't and would never cry over a man.” She snarled. “Come back to Ireland for his burial. It would be the last time you'd ever see him.” Reality dawned on me at my mother's words. It was going to be the last time I would be seeing my stepdad forever. A slow lonely tears cascaded down my eyes, rolling down my cheeks at the unpleasing and heart-wrenching reality. “Don tell me you're crying?” Mom snorted, her laugh blaring through the speaker of my phone. “You're the pathetic one not me. Are you forgetting that you and this man shared no blood relation?” “I fucking know that! You shouldn't remind me of that. I wish he was my biological father. I wished you didn't sleep around like a bitch and got pregnant!” Slamming my hand on the table in front of me, I yelled. Frustration and anger lodged in my throat, making it hard to breath. “Well, keep hating on yourself. I don't bloody care. Be at your step-father’s burial in two days time and pay him your last due.” Knowing her message was well received, she hung up like nothing had happened. Throwing my phone away and out of sight, I fell on the bed, my gaze fixated on the chandelier sitting prettily on the ceiling. My mind drifted to one person. The only son of Lorenzo Veneti. Simon Veneti, my step-brother. It's been five years since I last saw or heard from him, and I swear, I wasn't looking forward to meeting him for some reason. If not for the fact that I've to go to Lorenzo’s burial, I wouldn't have bothered about returning to Ireland. I already made up my mind five years ago not to return unless it was for something important. “I'm breaking my promise already,” I heaved a sigh, sinking my lower lips in between my teeth. “Let's go pay our last due to Dad.” ~~~~~~~~~~~ The flight from California to Ireland took ten hours and when I arrived at Corktown, I was so tired that I could barely keep my eyes opened. I flagged down a cab who took me back home. The home I once lived in almost all my life. Lorenzo Veneti’s very own home. The same home I shared with my once happy family, but everything changed drastically after my sudden decision to study in California. Standing at the gate of the mansion, I sucked in a deep breath, grabbed my luggages and entered. Getting to the entrance door, I heard loud music and screaming, causing a frown to morphed my face. What was going on? I pushed the entrance door open, only to meet an unbelievable sight in front of me. Right from when I was little, I knew the kind of person my mother was. A bitch. A greedy, selfish, self-centred bitch. But never in a million years did I thought of her as an evil and cruel woman. She might be a bitch but not cruel and evil, but it turned out I was in the dark. I never knew what kind of woman she was. Remind me if I was wrong. Her husband died barely twenty-four hours ago, yet, she was seated on the lap of a younger man, kissing and sucking on his lips like a whore. The music paused and all eyes snapped towards me including that of my mother. “Oh, Hazel, you're here.” She didn't regard my presence. I meant nothing to her because she turned around and continued kissing the younger man like I wasn't watching. “Mom!” I stomped my feet to the ground in frustration, anger brewing from the top of my head. “What? Just go to your room upstairs and stop trying to ruin my fun.” She snapped at me. “Your husband died barely twenty-four hours ago and yet….” My voice trailed off as tears stung the corners of my eyes and my throat tightened. “Yet, you're already kissing another man. Does Simon knows about this?” She paused at the name of my step-brother. I was sure she's afraid of him as I am. “Don't you dare tell him!” She spat, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “And if I do?” I brought out my phone, ready to dial his number, knowing fully well that I don't have his number anymore. Hell, it's been five fucking years, so it was normal for us to lose contact. He never contacted me and I didn't bother to do the same, not after what happened five years ago that prompted my sudden leave for California. “Stop being a bitch, Hazel.” “Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you? Your husband just died and you're already sleeping around like a whore. How sure am i that you weren't even the one who killed him?” Gasps and murmurs erupted inside the spacious sitting room, while Mom stood up from the man’s lap, strode towards me, connecting her hand on my cheeks. I felt a sharp sting from the slap as I bit my lips, almost drawing out blood. “Don't you ever accuse me of the death of Lorenzo. Never in your miserable life!”Hazel’s POV“You aren’t going anywhere, young lady,” he said, only to place his mug against his lips.The audacity.For a few minutes, I stood frozen at the base of the stairs, my hand still resting lightly on the railing. My other hand was clenched around my purse, fingers curling into the faux leather like it was the only thing tethering me to my sanity.I turned around slowly and deliberately until my eyes met his. Of course he was still shirtless and was still standing in the same position like he had the damn right to tell me what to do. Like he hadn’t just spent the past few days making me feel like I was invisible. Like I was a flickering bulb in his house that was annoying, inconsistent, and inconvenient for him.Squaring my shoulder, I raised my chin, “Excuse me?”He didn’t flinch. Instead, he took another sip from his mug like we were having a polite conversation about the weather and not whatever the hell this was.“I said,” he repeated, his voice low and steady, “you’re
HAZEL’S POVJust like Simon had wanted, I went out to inform Aurora that things were even between me and her father, only then did she dig into her meal. Until I slid into my room, I could still feel Simon’s gaze on me. He had been staring since I turned towards the stairs.I hated that I couldn’t get him out of my head no matter how much I tried.Simon Veneti, my brooding, impossible, infuriating stepbrother was everywhere. He was in my thoughts, my bloodstream and my dreams. And the fact that we lived under the same damn roof didn't help a bit.It was stupid, so stupid.After everything, after the way he made me feel like a leftover he couldn’t decide whether to toss or hoard, I still wanted him.It was sick, no I was the one who was sick.With my hands spread apart, I fell on my bed, my knees bent and pressed together as I stared up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above me. A breeze floated through the opened window, brushing against my bare legs, making a little sigh escape
HAZEL’S POVWhatever Simon does, that was the least of my business. That was what I kept telling myself as I sat cross legged on my bed. The glow of my laptop screen was the only light in the room. My stomach growled for the second time in ten minutes, reminding me that I had skipped breakfast after skipping dinner last night.After the fallout with Simon, I had refused to leave my room, not because I was afraid of seeing him. It's just that, I didn’t trust myself not to throw a fork at his forehead the second he opened his mouth.After what he said last night, how could I not?Frustrated, I slammed the lid of my laptop shut with a groan and then leaned back against the headboard, letting my eyes flutter close for a second.Why does he always do this?Why does he act like I’m some villain invading his perfect little world? Like I asked to be here, like I’m forcing myself into Aurora’s life when all I’ve ever done is love her as her aunt. “Ugh,” I muttered, sitting up and yanking t
SIMON’S POVShit!Asking Hazel if she was happy that my wife wasn’t living with me and my daughter wasn’t what I intended to say.I was just too mad and I ended up saying something entirely different. Now, I’ve wedged a wall between us and Hazel? She has coiled back into her shell.Same shell she had coiled herself into five years ago and funny enough, I was the cause. Both five years ago and even now.I felt a part of me ripped out as I watched her turn around, pushed the door to my room open and disappeared into the darkness.“Fuck!” I cursed as I drove my fingers deep into my hair and let out an exasperated sigh. I was messing things up lately and it wasn’t funny at all.It has just been a week, yet, I’ve succeeded in making my step-sister cry. Congratulations to me.An annoyed hiss tore off my lips as I turned around, walking in the opposite direction, leading to my bathroom.Since I’ve successfully messed things up, I could as well take a cool shower to help release stress, beca
HAZEL’S POVIt’s been a week since I came into Simon’s home and I could count the number of times we’ve spoken to each other and I bet those conversations were either bickering, exchanging of words or silence.Neither of us made mention of anything from the past. Anything pertaining to what happened between us five years ago.The confession. The rejection. Running away like a coward.I felt it’d ruin the moment if I made mention of it, but with each passing day and the growing of feelings for this man, it won’t be long until we get back to the past.This time, it’d be more brutal and the heartbreak will be ten times more hurtful than the one from five years ago.The feelings I thought had died when I left Ireland for California five years ago, were awakened and this time, with dangerous, sinful thoughts.Thoughts like what I’m starting to have when I was told by Mrs Delilah to go inform Simon about his daughter’s need.It all started in a way which I thought was simple, but when it en
HAZEL’S POVIt has been two days since I came into Simon’s home and in those two days, I’ve bonded with Aurora even more than I thought I would. She’s a sweet little princess that makes my heart flutter with her giggles, laughs and pouts.Everything around here seemed good, except for the fact that I haven’t seen or heard anything from Simon’s wife, Hosanna.Though I didn’t ask anyone, as it might sound inappropriate prying into their family’s privacy, I couldn’t help but be curious.Not my fault though, blame it on my curiosity like that of an orange colored cat.After the dinner where I and Simon ended up bickering amongst each other, I haven’t seen him ever since.Each time I asked Overa about his whereabouts, her replies were always clipped. It was almost as if I was forcing her to reply.“Aurora, I can’t make Dutch braids. Wait until your dad gets you a special hairstylist.” I could hear Overa’s frustrated and strained voice as I made my way downstairs after taking my bath.It wa