When Venom Blossoms

The night's whispers of love had finally fallen silent when Trevin Hoffman, wearing a ragged bathrobe, stumbled out of the bedroom.

He was unsteady on his feet, his cheeks flushed with a satisfied glow, his eyes lingering on the memory of what had just passed. The love bites marking his skin stood out starkly.

Ignoring me completely, he poured himself a glass of water at the dining table and spoke with a hint of annoyance.

"Yara, there's a limit to how much of a scene you can make. I'm not feeling great, and I don't have the patience for your attitude right now.

"It was just one night. Wren, a girl, didn't make a fuss about it. Can't you relax a little?"

"Relax?" I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "She’s really something—jumping into bed with a guy who’s about to get married!"

In a fit of rage, Trevin hurled his glass to the floor. "Shut up!

"Wren's not doing well. Don't talk trash in front of her, or you can kiss this marriage goodbye!"

No sooner had he spoken than the medical team we had on standby rushed into the bedroom to begin life-saving measures.

Trevin was right there with them, not even giving me a second look.

Wren Scott was lying on what was supposed to be my wedding bed, weakly holding Trevin's hand.

"Trevin, I've been a burden to you, but I just wanted to see you one last time before I go…"

The air was thick with hormones, and the trash can was overflowing with evidence of their night together.

"Being with you before I die makes me so happy… On the wedding day, can I just watch from the sidelines?"

"Don't be silly!" Trevin clutched Wren's hand, tears filling his eyes, and he shouted at the doctor. "Save her, now!"

He turned back to her. "Wren, you're going to be okay. I'm still looking forward to the day I can lift your veil."

They kissed with abandon, like lovers seizing their final moments before the apocalypse.

I watched the soap opera scene play out in front of me, my stomach churning.

Everyone in town knew Trevin was my Achilles' heel.

For him, I, the pampered heiress who never lifted a finger, awkwardly took up cooking, bending over backward to please him.

I even endured the punishment from my furious granddad, all to be his bride.

I poured my heart out to Trevin, never expecting to be repaid with betrayal.

"Yara, are you blind? You're just standing there like a statue," Trevin snapped, his eyes brimming with annoyance.

"Why haven't you called the Lawrence family medics yet? If Wren dies because of the delay, will you be able to live with that?"

When I did not budge, Trevin's expression turned stormy. It was the first time I had ever openly defied him in front of others.

"Our wedding's tomorrow, and you choose now to pick a fight?"

"Do you even remember we're getting married?" I fixed my gaze on the telltale hickey on his neck and let out a scornful laugh. "Did the wedding slip your mind while you were in bed with Wren?"

"I was saving her life!"

I laughed calmly. "Sure, save her life!

"You had an antidote but chose the hero's path instead. How selfless!"

His face went from pale to flushed as he was about to retort, but the wedding planners barged in, chattering away.

Trevin's best man led the pack, catching sight of the chaos in the bridal suite and knitting his brows in disapproval.