Page 121 of The Viper's Wife

“Let me go!”

“No!”

His body freezes. I keep still as he slowly loosens his grip to feel around my body, grabbing at my shoulder, my head, my mouth. I shiver.

“Why is it dark?” he asks in a weak voice.

“It’s nighttime.”

He relaxes against his pillow before reaching over with a groan and turning on the side lamp.

Light pours into the room.

It’s a shock to see his swollen eyes and cut mouth and the bandages over him all over again. In the dark, I had forgotten this was our new reality.

His eyes are glossy with fever. He’s not entirely in his right mind.

He touches my cheek with the tips of his fingers, before wincing and dropping his hand. It must hurt to move.

“Did you get burned?”

The question shocks me a little. “No. Stefano just took my phone. I was at the apartment the whole time.”

I’m not sure if Nico even registers what I said as he takes my hand in his. “But you’re okay?”

I squeeze his hand. “I’m okay. I’m doing a lot better than you.”

Amusement flickers over his face. “You should see the other guy.”

I want to ask him what the next steps are—what our next steps are—but I don’t want to pressure him while he’s delirious with fever and pain.

His face twists in something like pity. “Val, your dad…”

I brace myself as a wave of emotion crashes over me and tries to suck me under. “I know. Giovanni told me.”

He spared no detail as he described Nico knifing my father to death.

Nico grimaces as he pushes himself up a little. “What did he tell you?”

“He told me they’d forced you to do it.”

“No, that’s not what?—”

“Nico, I don’t want to hear it. I trust you. And I didn’t want that to happen, but my dad chose to target Don Salvatore. He left me. He left the family. What did he think would happen?”

Nico squeezes my hand. “I don’t think he left you. I think Giovanni, or someone, made him leave. And I didn’t kill him. I tried to let him escape, but Giovanni shot him.” Nico meets my eye. “His last words were that he loves you.”

I smile, tears coming to my eyes. Dad never said he loved us. His parents never told him that either. I think it really fucked him up. “You’re a bad liar.”

He smiles lazily, brushing his thumb over my hand.

I lay next to him on the bed and curl up against his body, needing the security that comes from being near him, even if it’s a trick of the mind. I can tell it hurts him when I touch his chest, and I try to give him space, but Nico holds me close.

He twists slowly to turn off the lamp, plunging us into velvety darkness.

“I thought they’d left you in the fire,” he admits, after a long time.

“Your clothes smelled like smoke when you came home.”