A Kiss Of Venom: A Dark Mafia Stalker Romance: A Sleeping Beauty Retelling (Black Widow Book 1) by Beena Khan

Author:Beena Khan [Khan, Beena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: B. Khan
Published: 2021-09-06T16:00:00+00:00

21

I dropped Alexander Nikolaev’s case two weeks later.

I had made little progress on it. I’d tried in the beginning, but it had gone nowhere. I didn’t know how to keep investigating a man I slept with. It was a conflict of interest.

My superiors hadn’t questioned me when I’d mentioned it. Perhaps, they already knew about my mental health history and believed I wasn’t stable enough to handle the case. I’d stopped taking anti-psychotics a few days ago. I wanted to blame my crazy mind on the medications instead. I didn’t have any hallucinations anymore, and I didn’t hear Driss’ voice either.

I’d requested a change in my schedule too, so instead of eight, I would leave by five and make it home by six.

I still took the same path home every night, and I wondered if he was still prowling in the shadows. I couldn’t sense his eyes on me anymore. It left me numb. I was an idiot for wanting my stalker to still be around. Stalkers and murderers were everyone’s worst nightmare, yet for me… he was more than that. Maybe because he came into my life out of nowhere and defended me.

Had I known he was my stalker before that incident, then maybe I wouldn’t feel like this. I didn’t know when he had become more. I still couldn’t put my finger on what exactly it was between us. It was more than just desire and much greater than need. He’d never contacted me again. A small part of me wished he had. Maybe he had moved onto someone else. Someone worthy of his time. He didn’t even speak to me the last time when I spoke my truth. It stung my heart deeply.

It was around six when I’d returned home from work.

Noura was coloring, and she’d asked me to help in her storybook. I’d given a meek smile and promised her after eating that I would. Once I’d changed my clothes and eaten, I settled into the living room, helping her.

“Mommy,” Noura said after a moment.

My eyes clashed into her brown ones, ones so similar to mine.

She flashed me her pearly smile.

“You look tired, Mommy. Are you okay?”

My world came crumbling down, and my body went rigid. How did the rest of the world miss that but my four-year-old caught it? I gave a small smile, and I hoped it reached my eyes.

“Yes,” I lied. “I’m doing okay.”

She still looked with curious eyes like children did when they knew an adult was lying to them.

After a few seconds, she pouted and returned to her coloring. A breathy sigh of relief left my mouth that she hadn’t pushed it. I was afraid to answer a child.

“What wath Daddy like?”

My body stilled. I glanced at her, but she continued coloring, not realizing the effect her question had on me. A tear left my eye before I could wipe it away. I stared at my daughter, thinking before I spoke. I reached up a hand and wiped the tear.

She was beautiful, precious, and mine.

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