Sweet Venom Chapter 1

The ballroom was humming, a low thrum of self-congratulation set to the clinking of champagne flutes. It was our company's victory gala, and Melanie Pierce, the VP's fiancée, drifted toward me like a shimmering, smiling shark.

"There you are," she said, her voice a little too bright. "You must be the special assistant Ryan's been telling me about. So loyal. And so… capable."

She let the word capable hang in the air between us, weighted with a meaning that had nothing to do with my job description.

Yes, I was the VP's special assistant. But I was also the Director of Project Management for the Sterling Group. I'd been with the company since the beginning, helping our CEO, Arthur Sterling, build it from nothing. By rights of history and sheer sweat, his own son, Ryan, should have been calling me "Aunt Claire."

So why, at our biggest celebration of the year, did I suddenly feel like I was being branded my own nephew's mistress?

* * *

Every word Melanie had spoken was, on its own, perfectly innocent. But woven together, delivered with that saccharine smile and the knowing glint in her eyes, they curdled into a potent poison. I saw the expressions on the faces of those around us shift—a flicker of gossip-fueled comprehension, a shared, silent understanding.

A hot buzz started behind my ears. I tightened my grip on my glass, fighting to keep my composure. "You must be mistaken, Ms. Pierce. I'm the Director of Project Management. My work speaks for itself. I…"

"Oh, Claire, don't be so formal," she interrupted smoothly, her smile never faltering. "I get it. A jack-of-all-trades. It must be such a comfort for Arthur, knowing Ryan has one of his own people helping him out. Isn't that right?"

Ryan finally seemed to sense the undertone, the sheer voltage of the current passing between us. He gently touched her arm. "Mel, let's not. Claire is a vital part of this company."

Melanie immediately melted against him, her voice turning into a playful pout. "What did I say? I was just complimenting her on being so talented and trusted. Are you going to scold me for that?" She looked up at him with wide, wounded eyes.

Ryan's resolve vanished. He shot me a helpless, apologetic glance.

Nearby, Arthur Sterling's face had hardened. But his position as CEO held him in check; he couldn't very well start a public argument with his son's fiancée over an ambiguous "joke." He cleared his throat, a sound like gravel hitting a wall. "Alright, everyone. Let's find our tables."

The moment was over, but the damage was done. The way people looked at me had changed.

The next Monday morning, I headed to the kitchenette for coffee. I wasn't even at the door when I heard the low, conspiratorial giggles.

"Are you serious? No wonder she shot up the ladder so fast."

"I always said Arthur treated her a little too well. Turns out he was just grooming her for the prince."

"'Special assistant.' That's a nice way of putting it. On the clock during the day, on her back at…"

The sentence was punctuated by a wave of knowing, sleazy laughter.

"You heard what Melanie said at the gala, right? Loyal and capable. Tsk. That's an evaluation with a hell of a benefits package."

My feet froze to the floor. I thought I'd been prepared, but hearing the filth spoken so casually, so carelessly, felt like a thousand tiny needles piercing my heart.

The small kindnesses of office life vanished. Colleagues who used to pull me into their lunch orders now fell silent when I approached, offering strained, overly bright smiles. The junior admin who used to call me Claire now averted her eyes, flinching her hand back as she passed me a file as if I were carrying a disease.

I couldn't let this fester. I had to do something.

I knocked on Ryan's office door. He was staring at his monitor, a deep crease between his brows.

"Ryan? Got a minute?"

He looked up and gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Yeah, sit down. Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Have you heard some of the… chatter… going around the office?"