Page 105 of My Dark Divine

She’s so close now, her energy making me feel small and insignificant. The scent of her perfume, sharp and strong, breaks the trance she’s cast over me. And then I see it—the same mesmerizing shade of eyes as West’s.

“Delilah Cruz,” he whispers into my ear as she closes the distance between us. “Don’t be afraid, baby girl. She isn’t as scary as she looks.”

I wouldn’t say she’s scary. Rather, powerful and fucking magnificent.

“Venetia, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says, leaning in and wrapping me in the tightest hug I’ve ever experienced. “West has told me a few things about you. He can never be as attentive as I am, so it’s wonderful to meet you in person.”

“You’re acting like I said something bad about her,” West says, rolling his eyes as I wrap my arms around Delilah and return her hug. “And don’t change the subject.”

Clicking her tongue in mock irritation, she pulls away and gestures for us to follow her. “Don’t give me that again. It’s a fair game.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling a bit out of the loop.

“She rips off money from these poor old people she calls friends,” West replies with a laugh. We settle into soft, oversized chairs around the coffee table, a little farther from everyone else, and I shoot him a questioning look, to which he simply shrugs.

Delilah doesn’t seem bothered at all. She casually pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket. “They asked me to teach them how to play poker, and I did,” she explains, slipping a cigarette between her lips and lighting it. My concern must be evident on my face because she waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. They’re used to me smoking here. These old farts and dumb staff know better than to argue with me about it.”

I laugh, realizing that if I were one of the people in this place, I’d never dare to comment on Delilah’s smoking habits. She looks like someone who flips off cops on a regular basis.

“I honestly have no idea how she still has friends here.” I look at West as he speaks, taking in the genuine smile that suddenlyappears on his face. Warmth flows through me as I realize it’s the first time in what feels like an eternity that he’s smiled so brightly.

“Oh, come on,” she groans, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “Like I need friends. I wouldn’t mind being on my own.” She leans in, tapping the tip of her cigarette into someone’s cup of unfinished coffee. “But enough about me. Tell me about you. How’s the business? Your engagement?”

“We’re taking a break from business,” West says, awkwardly turning his gaze to me. There’s a warmth in his eyes I haven’t seen before, and it makes me feel restless in my seat, not knowing how to react. Yeah, it still feels a little off when we’re not clawing at each other’s eyes as often as before. “Unofficially.”

“Unofficially?” she parrots skeptically. “You mean you ran off?”

“Yeah,” I chime in, nodding in agreement. “We did. Well, I left first. This… business can sometimes be?—”

“Oh, honey, you don’t need to spell it out for me,” she cuts in, inhaling from her cigarette once more. Her knee begins to bounce, and I catch a muscle under her eye twitching. “You don’t need a valid reason to run away from Lucas. He’s a piece of shit who drives everyone nuts. I’m surprised you’re still holding up under his rule.”

Huh. I never thought I’d be interested in this, but her hatred for him piques my curiosity. She doesn’t need to say much more—her body language and facial expressions tell me everything I need to know.

“My dad is the same,” I admit. “I guess we just got used to it.”

She chuckles, leaning forward to stub out her cigarette in the cup before lighting another one. She raises a finger, silencing whatever West was about to say. “You know talking about your dickhead of a father always makes me nervous,” she says, then turns her bright eyes back to me. “I’ve told West this a milliontimes, and I want to say it to you now: fuck Lucas and his so-called fucking leadership. You both have more potential than he ever will.”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“I can see it,” she replies. “Well, as soon as you quit snorting your brains out, you’ll be unstoppable. I’m sorry, but you both look like shit now.”

“We’re sober,” West says, rubbing his hands together anxiously. His head hangs slightly, hair casting soft shadows on his face as he struggles with the words. It’s unusual to see him so open and vulnerable, especially given his complicated relationships with his sister and father. Yet here he is, being transparent with his grandma.

It feels like I’m peeling away his layers, one by one, uncovering what’s hidden beneath—something that doesn’t spit acid when touched.

“Yeah. We both helped each other with that,” I chime in.

“I don’t know you as well as I’d like, Venetia, but I’ve heard a lot about you—from West and others. My grandson is an impulsive idiot who often acts out of anger, shutting off his brain,” she says with a hint of humor in her otherwise serious expression.

“I’m still here, just so you know,” West interjects, and Delilah’s lips curl into a brief smug smirk before her stern look returns.

“I see that you can help each other as much as you can hurt each other,” she continues, crossing one leg over the other. “You don’t need to say a word—I can tell how alike you both are. But if you fully embrace that potential, you could be unstoppable.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I mean,” she trails off, her gaze drifting to the window, “Lucas controls all of Cathedral City, which wasn’t supposed to happen. He needed someone to check him, to rein him in, but hechose to go it alone. And look where that’s led.” She waves her hands emphatically. “He’s gone completely off the deep end. He was already rotten, taking out hisfuckinganger on?—”

“Grandma,” West cuts in, his voice hardening. “You’re getting off track.”

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