Venom & Ecstasy (Venom Trilogy #2)

by S Williams

  Venom & Ecstasy

  Venom Trilogy #2

  S. Williams

  Contents

  Note From The Author

  1. Recovery

  2. Recovery – Day 2

  3. Recovery - Day 3

  4. Recovery – Day 4

  5. Restoration

  Chapter 6

  7. Restoration – Day 6

  8. Redemption

  9. Mercy

  Chapter 10

  11. Acceptance

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Afterword

  Copyright © 2017 Shanora Williams

  All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  Published February 2017

  Cover Art and Design by By Hang Le

  Editing by Librum Artis Editorial Services

  Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Note From The Author

  There are a few things you should know before diving into Venom & Ecstasy:

  1) This book cannot be read as a standalone. To read book one, Passion & Venom, click here!

  2) V&E is slightly darker/grittier than book one. There is murder, mild abuse, and even more violence. Read with caution!

  3) Despite the darkness, the romance is a little heavier between the main characters. Yep, you get to see a gentler side of El Jefe!

  4) If you need to, do a reread of book 1. There are a lot of things revealed in this one that weren’t answered in the first book.

  5) There is more Spanish in this novel.

  I wanted this story to feel real and true to the culture/setting and I couldn’t do that without adding in some of these terms. I enjoyed writing this book so much! It’s much different, but I love the tug and pull between Draco and Gia. I’ve created a list of the Spanish terms/slang used most in this book and added the English meanings, just in case you may need clarification while reading.

  I hope you enjoy Jefe and Gia!

  Niñita - Little girl

  Reina - Queen

  Patrona - feminine form of the word boss

  Puta (o) - bitch

  Hijo - son

  Hijo de puta - son of a bitch

  Abrela - Open it (command)

  Gringa - American/White woman

  Cajones - Balls/testicles

  Amor - Love

  Cariño - Sweetie

  To all the strong, fearless women out there fighting for their rights, fighting for hope, or fighting their own personal battles - this is for you.

  1

  Recovery

  Why am I still here? What am I doing? How the hell do I get out?

  I can’t block out the sounds in my head—the noise that deafens me, the feelings that scald me deep inside.

  Panting. Grunting.

  Hissing. Sighing.

  Heavy sweat. Screams.

  Tears blinding me.

  I jolt awake, panting raggedly, my spine stacked straight. I stare across the large bedroom. The door is still shut and locked. None of the lights are on. I’m still here. In Draco’s bedroom.

  My heart thunders, and I swallow the dry, gravelly lump in my throat. I realize I’m clutching the sheets, sticky sweat built up on the back of my neck.

  I look toward the alarm clock. 6:02 p.m. He’s still not here. It’s been hours. Where in the hell is he? He said he would be right back.

  When my panting ceases, visions of the axe tattoo blind me, and I press the palms of my hands into my eye sockets, rubbing roughly in hopes that it will suppress the memories. My breathing becomes ragged, heavy, a chill shooting down my spine.

  My body is filled with anxiety; my stomach has been flipped upside down. Even if I wanted to eat, I wouldn’t be able to. I was ready for revenge before, but now . . . now I’m just out of it. I blame it on whatever pills Draco had Juanita bring me.

  They’ve made me groggy. Distant.

  I push out of the bed and walk to the window. The sun has set now, half a golden disk perched atop the horizon. The sky is filled with splashes of pink and lavender and a slight trace of orange.

  The sapphire water shimmers, and I hear seagulls squawking. I lift my hand and unlock the window, pushing it open so I can take in a draft of the warmth. I inhale the salty air, and then exhale through parted lips.

  The sound of the large waves running up to the shore relaxes me.

  I keep the window open and walk back to bed, sitting on the edge. The breeze is cool enough to chill the heated parts of me. Looking up, I point my line of sight on the wall to my right.

  It caught my attention when I first laid down.

  It’s a weapon wall, swathed in burgundy fabric and bordered in black.

  There is the machete Draco used on Axe Man, and it makes me cringe inside, seeing it there. It still has blood on the sharp, silver blade, but not much.

  There are his gold brass knuckles, a few pocketknives, a butcher knife, and a gun.

  The gun is what catches my attention most. I push off the bed again and walk to the wall, picking up the heavy silver gun. It has a wide barrel. It could probably leave a wound the size of a golf ball.

  I pull the revolver open and check it. There are no bullets. Damn it.

  I run my fingers over the black handle, but that’s when I see the initials carved into it.

  CEM.

  I don’t know what the letters stand for. It’s probably another one of his prizes.

  Footsteps start up moments later and I stick the gun back in its place, stepping back. The doorknob jiggles, and my eyes stretch wide, sharp fingernails digging into my palms.

  It might be Bain . . . or Francesca. He’s not here, but they could be.

  “Unlock the door, Gianna,” Draco orders from the other side. His voice sends a signal to my brain. My mind sparks, my heart drumming. Relief.

  I rush to the door and unlock it, stepping away just as rapidly as he walks in.

  “Where were you?” I snap at him.

  “Busy.”

  “Doing what?” I fold my arms tightly.

  “Handling things.”

  “For ten hours? You said you’d be right back.”

  “And I am back. I didn’t tell you exactly how long I’d be.”

  I sigh, roughly raking my fingers through my hair and then turning. “I want to know what you meant earlier. You said we have stuff to talk about, so tell me. I need to know everything if I’m going to accept you, and this. I don’t want to be left out of the loop anymore.”

  He looks me over, taking note of my shaky hands as they fall
at my sides. “You need rest, Gianna. Relax.”

  “No,” I respond rapidly, and my voice is sharp, strained. “No—I’ve had enough rest. I’m tired of stalling, Draco. I’m a grown woman. Don’t treat me like some clueless child.”

  “You’re angry. I get it.” His voice is too calm and hearing it pisses me off. “If you sleep, I will tell you in the morning,” he says, stepping forward. I know he’s lying.

  I snatch my gaze away, pointing it at the weapons wall. “I can’t sleep. I—I keep waking up. Having these fucking nightmares. I can’t get rid of them, even if I try to think of something good before falling asleep.”

  I don’t look his way, but I feel him watching me. After several silent seconds tick by, he walks to the wide dresser against the wall, pulls out a white pill bottle from the top drawer and then comes back in my direction.

  When he pops the cap, he takes one out and presses it into my hand. “Take this. It will help.”

  I raise one eyebrow. “What is it?”

  “A prescription I take when I’m too restless to sleep . . . or when I don’t want to dream.” He walks to the closet in the corner and returns with a small bottle of water. Handing it to me, he says, “In your case, it will block the nightmares.”

  I study him, and then the pill and bottle of water. “How often do you take these?”

  “Only when I kill someone.” So . . . pretty much every night, I want to say. “It’s strong stuff. Takes about ten minutes to kick in. As soon as you take it, lie down.”

  “You still want me to stay in here?” I probe.

  “Yes.” He walks around me, slipping out of his pinstripe shirt as he makes his way toward the walk-in closet. I hear shuffling when he disappears. While he’s away, I down the pill and then chase it with the water.

  I don’t know what the pill is, but I’ll take anything if it means I can get some temporary peace. I climb back into bed and rest my head on the soft, white pillow. I keep my eyes on the closet—on where he is.

  I listen to him move around, and when he comes back out with a black pair of sweats on and no shirt, I sigh. I find it disturbing that I’m kind of glad he’s not leaving again.

  His chiseled body moves fluidly as he comes toward the bed. It dips on the opposite side, and he pushes the thick comforter down.

  He releases a long, weary sigh.

  We are quiet for a few seconds.

  After letting the question nag at me, I finally roll over to look him. “Where are they?” I whisper.

  His eyes immediately focus on mine. “Somewhere they can’t get to you.”

  I swallow hard. “You . . . took them there?”

  “The shed. Locked in my heaviest chains.”

  “For how long?” I whisper.

  “Until you’re ready.”

  “Me? Ready for what?”

  “Payback.” He says it so matter-of-factly that I flinch.

  I frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Sighing, he pulls his eyes away from mine and focuses on the vaulted ceiling. “I think you’ll figure it out. Until then, hush and go to sleep. You need rest.”

  He starts to turn his back to me, rolling sideways. “Wait—Draco,” I call, so faintly it can barely be heard.

  He freezes, but doesn’t look over. “What?”

  I hate that I’m even about to ask, but I might as well. This has to be done. There is no backing down now.

  Make him mine.

  I accept. I accept. I accept.

  “Can you . . . hold me? Just for tonight. Just in case . . .”

  When my voice trails off, he says, “No one will come in here to harm you, Gianna,” he assures me. “Not ever again.”

  “I know but . . . please?” I beg, and he turns over, looking me right in the eyes. He stares for a while, his brown irises shimmering from the moonlight, but when he sees the tears building up at the rim of mine, he sighs, shakes his head, and then extends his arm.

  He invites me in without words and I slide over, curling into his warm, sculpted body. He still smells like his spiced cologne. The scent fits him. Warm and outdoorsy. Like ocean spray and palm trees, and a spritz of citrus.

  He exhales, and I can tell he isn’t comfortable with this—having me so close. Feeling my heart beating near his, my arm wrapped so snug around his waist.

  I’m like a child clinging to their parent. Needy. Desperate for attention and affection.

  There is no one else I can get this from right now, so I’ll take Draco.

  “Whatever you want, I will provide it,” he says.

  “I know.” I yawn, and then my eyes seal tight. My body feels like dead weight, my eyelids so heavy that I couldn’t open them if I tried. “But you aren’t used to this,” I murmur. “Affection . . . from your prisoner.”

  I feel him shift, and I think he’s looking down at me.

  I can’t be sure.

  “You were never my prisoner, Gianna,” he murmurs.

  That’s the last thing I hear him say before I fall asleep.

  2

  Recovery – Day 2

  I hear the ocean.

  Feel the breeze.

  Groggily, I roll over, arms still heavy, head aching in the center. I look toward the open window, the bright, burning sun blazing its golden rays. The sunlight has swept that entire side of the bedroom. It barely kisses the bed.

  I twist over and sit up. The sheets are all over the place, the comforter hanging halfway off the mattress. I rub my eyes, clearing the sleep away.

  I still feel drained.

  My body feels like it’s been pumped with lead.

  I blame it on the pill he gave me, but I must admit I feel better. And I didn’t dream or have any nightmares. It was the emptiest, darkest sleep I’ve ever had, but I feel rested enough.

  I push out of bed and walk to the bathroom to make use of the toilet.

  As I sit, I hear a door creak open and shut from the bedroom. “Draco?” I call, peering around the corner.

  No response.

  I finish up in a hurry and walk out of the bathroom. As soon as I do, I let out a breath of relief. No wonder no one answers. It’s one of the maids. She has headphones on. She’s humming as she makes the bed.

  I step to the side, and when she sees me, she gasps, clutching the heart of her chest. “Oh—sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to come in here. I thought you were at breakfast. I’m so sorry.” She drops her head, backing away to the door. “Please—please don’t fire me. Please don’t tell Jefe.” She says all of this in Spanish, so rapidly that I almost can’t comprehend it.

  I hold out a patient hand, shaking my head. “No, it’s okay,” I coo. “I won’t tell him anything. You were doing your job. Don’t worry.” I give her a comforting smile.

  As if she’s surprised to hear this, she relaxes her shoulders and her eyes stretch wide. “I should go.” Her voice is hurried as she grips the doorknob, rushing out.

  I watch the door shut, mildly confused.

  I walk over and pull it open, peeking around the corner before walking down the hallway. I’m still dressed in one of Draco’s T-shirts and a pair of his basketball shorts.

  My hair, I’m certain, is a matted mess because I didn’t brush or blow-dry it after that bath. I can taste the morning breath on my tongue. I need to refresh immediately.

  I enter the room I was first sent to when I was brought here and shut the door behind me. I find a decent outfit and dress quickly, and then walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I’ve been patched up, somewhat. Draco sent Juanita up during the middle of the night, while I was a bit loopy and drugged up.

  I remember the piercing stab of the needle as she re-stitched my wound, but nothing more. Everything else about last night is hazy. I guess he was tired of looking at the damage that had been done to me.

  It was a clear reminder that he’d failed me.

  I stare into the mirror longer than intended and realize my face looks much worse than it feels.

&nb
sp; The entire right side of it is swollen and blue. A bruise has formed—just barely. I look hideous, and for a split second I want to cry.

  My face.

  My body.

  My life.

  I’m wondering if I should feel rage or another rush of emotion that I can’t control, but I don’t feel anything. I feel empty, and the emptiness terrifies me much more than the feelings. It scares me, because I know when I actually do feel something, I won’t be able to control it. I won’t be able to hold back on my actions. I will most likely regret it.

  When I’m all set, I walk out of the bedroom, cautious of my surroundings. I hear vacuuming and sweeping. I hear chatting and voices echoing. I know it’s the maids, but I am hyperaware of everything. Paranoid, really, of everyone that isn’t Draco.

  When I reach the bottom of the staircase, I look to the right, at the dining room. I see Draco standing near the French doors. His back is facing me, his hands behind his back, and someone is in front of him.

  He’s talking quietly to the person.

  I walk forward slowly, trying to peer around him to see the person, but I can’t. When I’m closer, I hear him talking.

  “You don’t feed them. You don’t talk to them. If they say anything to you at all, you cut their fucking tongues out. Don’t be lenient and don’t trust a word they say. I’m trusting you, Diego.” Draco’s smooth, fluent accent trickles out of the dining room.

  I step aside, continuing to eavesdrop.

  “Francesca says she didn’t know about the plan they had,” Diego says. “She says Bain promised her that if she fucked him a few times he’d help her escape and get her across the border.”

  Draco lets out a bitter chuckle. “Don’t believe a word that lying bitch says. Tell her I will be dealing with her soon.”

  When he says that, I step around the corner and walk in. Diego, one of the guards, spots me and his eyes widen. He doesn’t say a word. In fact, he looks away so fast that it almost seems unreal.