Sweet Touch of Venom (Lethal Love #1)

29. Ronan

Chapter 29

Ronan

Once upon a time…?it was still shit

I t was true when I said Anita’s family mattered to me more than anything. And that meant my own family. I cherished everything about them because it was the opposite of what I had. Your home is supposed to be your safe haven, the place you can unwind and be yourself. Have peace. Unfortunately, I was gifted with a father who had a different kind of way of showing his love.

Including the world, my own father and brother don’t know my other lifestyle. Truthfully, they know nothing about me but my tragic past. How terrible. They are also the only ones I’ve kept in contact with from my old life. At that time, I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe consolation for once from my father or a relationship with my brother to at least make me feel normal.

Let’s say I regret ever contacting them years ago. I wish I would’ve stayed dead to them. But I was alone, and had no one.

We only choose to tolerate each other when papa wants to pretend for a split second we are a family. We are not and never have been.

I pull up to the forty thousand square footage house that stands out like a cotton ball in a mud puddle. It’s bright, white, and obnoxious. I ignore the parking spot that’s presented for me, and I also ignore the personal valet that resides at the front, awaiting me.

My tongue tingles for something else, something stronger and more potent. A stiff drink. Unfortunately, I can’t do that, and I have to get through this dinner now with no mental void.

I don’t plan on staying long, anyway.

Strolling into the house I have no memory of—because it’s always being changed every five years—I follow the sound of clattering plates and of a weasel laughing.

“It’s absolutely incredible how we can pull that?—”

My father sits at the end of the ten-foot table, my brother is in the chair across from him, and the chef places their dinner plates in front of them. I instantly dull my eyes, already feeling an irritation settle in my stomach.

“He lives.” My father speaks roughly in Portuguese; Cruz’s head snaps in my direction, the laugh drifting off like it never happened. I make my way to the chair opposite of Cruz, who watches me with a look like I’m the imposing one.

“Glad to see you can make it.” Cruz offers his hand as if we are business associates and not actual brothers. It’s so presumptuous. Why not stand up and give each other a pat on the back or some brotherly shit like that?

No, not us. I ignore his hand, looking at my father, cutting straight to the point.

“What was it you needed me here for?” I itch the spot on my cheek, waiting.

The chef comes around, placing a five-star gourmet meal in front of me. I ignore that too.

Alexandro shakes his head lightly, the gray and black speckle on his chin more visible; there are deep lines in his cheeks, and his eyes are clearer from age. “Is it a sin to want to see my oldest son?”

He hasn’t seen me for twenty years. And not physically. You can be around someone, but can you truly see and understand them? He has treated me like the waste child who couldn’t amount to what he expected. The only thing that held us together was my mother, and when she died, that was it. The only one that was under his beck and call was Cruz.

I graze my thumb over my brow with frustration. “It’s always something, so what is it?”

Cruz flicks out his napkin, the cloth spreading like wings above the table before gently placing it on his thighs.

Pompous ass.

“How’s everything been going? Anything new? Interesting?” My father asks me as he slices a knife into his chicken. The sudden interest in my life only set off alarms in my head, like bright red flags waving in the air. A vision appears in my head of him taking his foot and crushing the heel of his shoe on my thirteen-year-old hand. All because I wanted to show him my new creation. That left me with bruised and swollen fingers for two weeks straight. I swipe the thought away as I tighten my jaw to suppress the rage.

“Fine.” Moving the plate out of the way, I clasp my hands together on the table, not giving a damn about etiquette. Cruz watches the movement with a twitching stare.

“Have you considered my opportunity to take over the business?” The knife screeches on the plate before he stuffs his fork in his mouth.

“I have no interest in being the holder of an oil and gas company.” This is what I mean. I’m a grown ass man, and it’s never ending with wanting to vet me for a company I never had interest in. Disappointed shines clear as day across his face. He opens his mouth to speak.

“Well then, what do you have interest in?” Cruz cuts in instead, his eyes dark and lifeless. The eyes he inherited from our father.

I crack a smirk at him. “Do you really want to know?”

Cruz’s lip raises slightly in aversion. We haven’t truly been brothers for a very long time. I only got to experience it for a brief moment. We are blood, but we are two strangers to each other. Although growing up, I would’ve liked to have had a bond with him. I’m his older brother, and what older brother wouldn’t want his baby brother under his wing?

He wipes the sides of his mouth with another napkin before speaking. “Maybe it’s time you become a part of something life changing. Mind-altering technology.”

My father continues eating in silence. Now that’s more like, do what you’ve always done.

Cruz stands up, exiting the room before coming back in the next second with a handheld box. My brow raises at the thought of a secret bomb being inside of it. Cruz wears a pleased smile on his face as he sets the box in the middle of the table.

I give a blank stare, my thumb itching my brow again, indicating I am bored with the theatrics. “What is this?”

He releases a breath, smiling harder. “This is change as we know it.” He lifts the box. “A new way of living, and most of all, control.”

Control?

In the box lies a tiny device—tinier than my pinky nail. “This is the Pevlon 4. It’s a device that’s used to place in a person’s mind and lead them to a virtual world. We can be the face of the world of artificial intelligence and virtual living as we know it. No more game systems, no more imaginations. This beauty here,” he gently picks up the tiny piece, holding it out in front of him, “will be a life changer. The only problem is, once the implant is inserted, the device overheats and—” He makes a boom sound while sprawling his hands around like a firework with a tiny grin on his lips. He spots the stoic look on my face and the beam drops.

He turns back into business mode. “We’ve only tested on animals so far, but we would like to test on a human. In order to achieve that,” his lips and jaws pinch, the obvious reluctance abandoning his face, “we need your help. You’re knowledgeable in taking things apart, solving problems, and finding the solution.”

A game? Virtual world? Putting this into a body and a serious malfunction? Hard pass. I won’t entertain this. I slowly get out of my seat, finding my cue to dip out of here.

“Where are you going?” my father finally says urgently, leaning forward into his chair.

“Leaving.” I move away, setting my plan in motion.

“You can’t leave! I haven’t finished talking!” Cruz exclaims, putting the device in the box.

“I heard enough. It makes no sense, and it’s a lawsuit waiting to happen. It goes against biology and engineering.” I stroll to the archway, counting my steps, so I can leave as fast as I came.

Cruz is fast on my feet, gritting out low through clenched teeth. “The one time I ask for your help, you choose to decline the offer?”

“The only reason you need me is that it’s something you can’t figure out, but if you had all the proper technicalities, you wouldn’t ever contact me. So, say it like it is, you’re using me.”

He lets out a frustrated huff. “I—that's not what this is. Just listen. Please!” He grabs me by the arm and I snatch it back, twisting my body towards him. He steps back, startled, and I clench my fist from my reflex almost taking hold.

His hardened eyes soften a bit as he drops his hand to his side. Cruz swallows, glancing over his shoulder then back at me with a look that I can’t place. “Please.”

I furrow, looking at his face, some part of me wanting to fall for these pleas, but all I remember is the simple fact. They only want you when they need you. Otherwise, you'll be a ghost to blind eyes to them. I continued to the door, not phased anymore by the realization. Not allowing the tiny stab to fester under the gash where the knife pricked.

As I walk out, Cruz shouts, “You think you’re the only one who can be an inventor in the family!” The words trigger me. “You’ve turned out to be nothing, just a sad excuse for the family name.”

Crisp air stings my cheeks as I ignore his rants behind me. The only inventor of the family.

A pull yanks at my heart like a drawstring closing a bag. I hop in my car, speeding off, leaving Cruz to yell with himself.

Inventor.

I haven’t invented anything since that night. And I don’t plan on it ever again.