Hexed (Never After #6)

22. Venesa

TWENTY-TWO

VENESA

Uncle T bought a yacht when I was thirteen years old and named it the Aquata, and about once a month when I was growing up, he’d load the family into the back of his fancy cars and bring them out onto the open sea for dinner. It almost always involved others; usually it was about him showing off to someone he deemed important, parading his women around like rare jewels from a sunken treasure.

I never got the invitation, I guess because I’ve never been worthy of being shown off like a prized possession—a little too rough around the edges to sparkle the way Aria does—and I always accepted it as the way things were. Even though I primed, waxed, and sculpted myself into a perfect figure, hoping I was good enough to be shown off to the world, I never quite managed it.

And each time I was left behind, it would chip away a bit more at my damaged spirit, proving it didn’t matter whom I lived with or who called me family.

It was all just another version of the same thing.

I was always a burden. An obligation.

In fact, it wasn’t until I was firmly under the umbrella of “employee,” if not on paper then by actual trade, that I was invited on board, and in my twenty-five years on this earth, fifteen of those having been with my uncle, he’s never once thrown me a birthday dinner.

So it’s easy to imagine why I’m suspicious now.

And desperate to leave.

I’m sitting on the front deck of the yacht with Bastien, the cushioned back of the booth I’m lounged in supporting me like a cocoon. The South Carolina heat beats down on my pale skin like I’m baking in an oven, and I’m a little concerned about getting a burn even though I’m slathered with sunscreen from head to toe. Bastien is reading a novel across from me, a rectangular table between us, both of us waiting for Uncle T to actually show up.

He said to be here at three, but it’s half past, and he’s still nowhere to be found.

“You coming with me tomorrow to meet the Atlantis MC for the drop?” I ask.

“Mmm.” He nods and flips a page in his novel. “Shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Good.” I pause. “You think Johnston has any idea it was me?”

I don’t elaborate because we both know I’m talking about the fact I put his brother-in-law in the hospital. Last I heard, he’s still alive, but barely.

Bastien glances at me. “If he did, I don’t think your uncle would send you into the fire.”

“True,” I reply, even though it doesn’t feel like it lately, which is a whole different can of worms. I chew my lip, wanting to spill everything to Bastien, just to see how he reacts, if maybe he’s been feeling the difference with Uncle T too or if it’s just me who’s suddenly off-kilter like my world’s been turned upside down.

“While we’re waiting, why don’t you tell me what you ended up doing with that Sean guy?” I ask instead.

Bas flips another page. “It’s been handled.”

I nod and tap my nails on the table. “You planning to elaborate?”

Now he does give me his attention, his amber eyes meeting mine over the lip of his book. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t you tell me not to worry about it, Bas.” I point my finger at him. “I am worried about it. He came into my place and messed with my money.”

I don’t add in the fact he spilled he was here following Enzo, maybe because part of me is hoping Bastien knows and is going to admit it to me instead.

“Technically, it’s your uncle’s money,” he deadpans.

My eyes narrow. “You know what I mean.”

He sighs, glancing at me again. “And you know what I mean when I say it’s been handled.”

“I know it means you’re being an asshole.”

He smirks.

I stare at him for a few seconds, but he doesn’t say anything else. “You’re really not gonna tell me?”

His brow lifts. “He isn’t important, V. He wasn’t anyone worth a damn. Just some idiot who thought he could worm his way into our business because of hearing the rumor mill. I killed him; he’s gone.”

Something sour hits the back of my throat because I know he’s lying. “What rumor mill?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then his gaze slides past me, and my vision follows his.

Uncle T is making his way up the dock, and he’s not alone, because of course he isn’t.

Enzo and Aria are both with him, and don’t they just look so cozy together, with Aria’s hand wrapped around his so tightly, their arms look intertwined.

A heavy sensation drops in my gut, like thick green slime coating my insides and weighing me down. Enzo glances up, meeting my gaze from across the dock, and my stomach jumps into my throat, that envy whipping into anger.

I glare, and Aria turns toward him, whispering in his ear. His attention leaves me for her while he chuckles at something she says.

And why wouldn’t he pay attention to her instead of me?

I’m nothing but a bridesmaid, after all.

I huff out an audible breath and cross my arms, earning me a curious look from Bastien.

“I thought this was supposed to just be the three of us,” I murmur, keeping my eyes on them as they make their way up the steps and onto the yacht’s deck.

Bas sighs, dog-earing the page in his book and closing it, setting it down on the table. “It was.”

My eyes widen in horror.

“What?” He straightens like he needs to be on guard.

“What do you mean ‘what?’ How could you do that?”

He rubs at his jaw, his brows drawing down in confusion. “Do what?”

“That.” I gesture at the book. “Get a bookmark, good lord. Were you raised in a barn?”

“Oh,” he replies, picking the book back up and flipping it open. “You mean this?”

He takes another page and slowly, torturously , curls over the top part of the paper.

My skin crawls.

“You’re disgusting,” I spit out in horror.

He grins widely. “Feels good.”

I grab a scrunchie from around my wrist and throw my hair into a loose messy braid just to get it out of my way, then sigh in relief when the ocean breeze ghosts across my exposed neck.

“You know Trent’s never able to tell Aria no. She probably said she wanted to come along,” Bastien notes. “She’s been very into family things lately.”

“It’s my birthday, Bas. I should get to throw her overboard and never hear her voice again.”

A haunted shadow comes over his features. “Don’t let him hear you talk about her like that, you understand me? Actually, don’t let her hear you talk like that.”

“Please,” I sneer. “She doesn’t scare me. Maybe he’s bringing dear ol’ daughter into the family business.”

I grin, and Bastien’s amber eyes volley between me and everyone walking on board.

“There they are,” Uncle T says, his tone light and jovial as the three of them make their way across the deck until they’re standing in front of us.

“Uncle T.” I smile and half stand to give him a hug. He presses a kiss to the top of my head and pats me on the back like I’m a pet. I don’t make eye contact with anyone else because I’m really not in the mood to fake it today, and hell, it’s my birthday. I can be icy if I want.

Not that anyone is actually wishing me a happy birthday right now.

I don’t want them to anyway.

Still, them at least trying to pretend they care would be nice.

I sit down again and lean back in the booth, kicking my legs up on the seat in front of me like I can’t be bothered to pay any more attention to them. It’s an obvious snub, one I hope Enzo feels personally.

“Venesa.” A smooth voice coasts over my skin like melted butter, and then a shadow covers my frame, Enzo’s stupid face blocking the sun. “Happy birthday.”

I swallow thickly and close my eyes, forcing out a stiff nod. “Is it?”

“Bas, my office,” Uncle T snaps.

I wait for him to ask me to come along, but for every second of silence, I grow more disappointed. As usual lately, I’m left out here while Uncle T runs his business and tells me nothing.

My chest aches. Is it me who’s changing?

I brush off the feeling. It’s just because Aria’s back in town, and she brought her douchebag fiancé, who keeps making me feel things. Once they’re gone, things will go back to normal.

Sighing, I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying to block out the noise of Aria and Enzo talking. If I can’t escape, then I might as well continue to pretend I’m oblivious to my surroundings.

Dainty footsteps get farther away, and the sliding door that leads to the living area inside opens and shuts. But even if I couldn’t tell from the sound alone, I’d know it wasn’t Enzo who left because I can feel his stare, the same way I always can.

There’s a shift of weight on the cushions near me, jostling my legs, and then: “Hi.”

I pop open one eye and look at Enzo, ignoring the way my stomach flips. I don’t reply.

“How are you?” he tries again.

I adopt a lazy grin. “Swell. You?”

“Swell.”

I bob my head a few times and then reach into the bag on the table next to me before grabbing my sunglasses and slipping them on so he can’t see my eyes.

He throws his arm across the back of the booth and looks past me, toward the wall of sliding glass doors that separate both levels of the outside decks and the inside of the yacht. “Nice day.”

“Mmm,” I murmur, not really wanting to have a conversation.

“No business today?” he presses. “I thought for sure you’d be on the heels of your uncle and Bas.”

I stiffen my jaw and tilt my head back against the cushion, ignoring the sting caused by thinking about them in there without me. “Well, darlin’, you thought wrong.”

He leans in, and the back of his hand barely brushes against the outside of my calf. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard, I can taste blood. “You doing okay today?”

Something heavy pummels me in the center of my chest, both because he’s the only person to actually care and because he’s acknowledging that today might be hard for me.

How dare he?

I drag my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose, just enough to glance at him over the top. “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He removes the slight touch and sits back.

“This.” I wave between us. “This whole, ‘I know more about you than anyone here and I care, so let’s have a heart-to-heart’ thing.”

His brows draw down, confusion splashing across his features.

Anger swirls like a sea storm through my body. If he doesn’t realize what he’s done, then I won’t be the one to explain it to him.

The sliding door opens, and I twist to see who it is.

Aria walks outside, clad in a tan knitted cover-up and a large floppy hat that hides most of her face. Gold Cartier bangles line her arms, and when she lifts her hand to adjust the brim, the sparkle of her diamond engagement ring almost blinds me.

“Do me a favor. Worry about the people you’re supposed to be worried about and leave me the hell alone, okay?” I snip.

He frowns but follows my gaze over to Aria. I hate that I can see what looks like adoration when he stares at her.

Even worse, I hate that I care.

“You should probably know you’re fraternizing with the enemy by being over here and talking to me,” I continue.

He looks back at me. “Is that what you think you are? My enemy?”

“Well, we’re not friends.”

“Ouch.” He rubs at his chest and winces. “Why not?”

I laugh under my breath before leaning back and closing my eyes again because it really doesn’t matter. “We both know why not.”

A cheeky grin blooms on his face. “I thought we were becoming pretty good at the whole friends thing.”

“Word on the street is you also think I’d make a good bridesmaid,” I snark, my gaze snapping back open.

His grin fades, and I watch as the realization washes over him. “Venesa…”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What’s going on over here?” Aria’s voice interrupts, and I bite back the loud sigh that wants to escape.

“Just getting to know my future cousin,” I croon.

She saunters over to Enzo and sits down so close to him, I’m surprised she doesn’t end up on his lap, and then she reaches up and runs her fingers through his silky dark hair.

He doesn’t push her away. But then again, why would he?

“Hopefully not too well,” she chastises lightly. “We all know what happens when you get too close to a man, Urch, no offense.”

My stomach drops, but I wink at her. “Not just the men, honey.”

“You’re so crass,” she sneers.

Confidence straightens my spine and makes a smile blossom on my face.

Aria’s always been a jealous hag, but it’s not like she has anything to seriously worry about with me anyway. I enjoy making her uncomfortable, but if I hurt her, if I did anything to truly piss her off, I’d be cast out by the Kingston family with a snap of Uncle T’s fingers. I’m under no illusion that he’d pick me. He’d choose her a thousand times and in a thousand different ways before he’d ever place me above her.

She’s his daughter, and I’m just an unfortunate byproduct of his family tree.

Clearly, Enzo feels the same.

Which, of course, he does. But why would I want him to place me above her anyway? I can’t offer him anything.

Still, watching them together? It’s making me sick.

Her fingers tangle one more time in his hair as my stomach twists, jealousy pouring through me.

Enzo’s eyes snap to mine, and he grabs Aria’s wrists, pushing her away.

She frowns at him and reaches back out, pulling both their hands until they’re resting in her lap. He shifts like he’s uncomfortable, like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and isn’t that just the most ridiculous thing?

I track the movement because, despite my inner monologue screaming that I don’t care, I can’t help myself, and when I finally tear my vision away, worried that Enzo can see how much it’s affecting me, I realize I had nothing to fear at all.

Because Enzo isn’t even looking at me.

He’s looking at her.

The same way everyone always does.

I turn my face, and when I do, my gaze clashes with a new set of eyes—dark brown—and my stomach drops to my feet.