Page 19 of Viper’s Reign

He winks suggestively as I take his hand. Almost immediately, the warmth of his palm travels up my arm, hotter than it did when we were dancing. He must feel it too—I can tell by the way he looks at our joined fingers before he squeezes mine gently and leads me forward. We head back down to the main deck in silence.

There’s another staircase here I didn’t notice earlier. A curved glass staircase, flanked on either side by vertical LED panels still displaying the Volks Security logo and other visuals.

“Turn those off,” Dimitri orders the guard at the top, then gestures for me to go ahead of him.

As I start down the stairs, sanity makes a brief, unwelcome return.

What if he found out I lied? Was that what he was being told just moments ago? Is he taking me downstairs to find out who I really am? To torture the information out of me? Or does he already know everything?

My heart thunders in my throat. We’ve already left the dock. As far as I know, the only people on this yacht are me, Dimitri, and his men. I’m cornered, and the Viper is approaching.

“Penny for your thoughts?” His voice in my ear jolts me out of my spiral, and I realize I’ve slowed on the stairs without noticing.

What am I even thinking? I gulp, the fear settling into dread. If he’s really about to torture me, then I deserve it. Not just for lying today, but for what I still intend to do to him later—that is, if I get the chance.

No. I can’t let him figure me out. Not for my sake, but for Millie’s.

I force a breath out and toss a small smile back at him. “If I actually got a penny every time someone asked me that, I’d be a millionaire by now.”

He chuckles, nudging me forward. “So you’re telling me you have a long line of admirers desperate to know what goes on in that head?”

“No, not at all,” I sigh. “Only the one nosy best friend.” My smile widens, then fades quickly. This is all for you, Millie. I push her gently aside as I round the last curve of the staircase. The walls shift here—from polished wood and glass to sleek metal with faint blue underlighting. The air feels noticeably cooler, and the low hum of the engines combined with the distant sound of water against the hull somehow lightens my heavy heart. At the bottom, wall sconces brighten automatically to reveal a compact foyer leading to a single thick metal door.

“What’s behind there?” I find myself asking.

Dimitri answers by stepping around me and typing a code into the panel. The door swings inward, and he holds it open with a quiet, expectant look. I’m far past being hesitant at this point, so I walk in.

The moment I do, the floor lights activate, illuminating the room, and I almost forget to breathe.

I’ve read about rooms like this. I’ve seen photos in travel magazines at the clinic waiting room on slow afternoons. But no pictures or descriptions could come close to depicting the wonder of what actually being inside one is like.

The walls down here aren’t walls. Three sides, floor to ceiling, are nothing but glass—and beyond the glass is the sea, alive and endless, lit from the outside hull in pale turquoise ripples that shift and shimmer as the yacht moves through the water. The sensation of being surrounded by it, held within it without actually being in it, is equal parts disorienting and exhilarating. A tiny fish darts past, and the breath finally leaves me in a soft gasp as I close the distance to the glass, watching its silver scales catch the light before it vanishes into darker water where the light no longer reaches.

I press my palm against the glass, the vibration of the yacht moving through the water traveling up my hand and into my arm. “This is—this is incredible.”

“Told you you’d like it.”

“I love it, I—” I spin around, and the rest of my words die in my throat at how close he is. He’s so close the tips of our shoes are touching.

“I know.” His low voice, paired with the hum of the water behind me, makes my knees go weak.

My back finds the glass, and then his hands are on my cheeks, cradling my face so gently it almost doesn’t make sense for a man of his stature.

“You are absolutely stunning when you smile. Did you know that?”

I lose the ability to form a single coherent thought. My throat locks, leaving me a useless, speechless mess as his head dips slowly toward mine.

“Still curious what Dimitri Petrov’s kiss tastes like?”

A moan escapes me as I tip my chin up and part my lips in answer.

Instead of kissing me right away, he drags his thumb lightly across my lower lip, almost politely. Then his thumb lifts and his warm lips close over mine.

One hand slides to my jaw, angling my head exactly how he wants it so he can deepen the kiss, and the deep groan that rumbles out of him vibrates all the way into my bones.

My hands fly to his shoulders, gripping them tightly to steady myself as the floor seems to vanish underneath my feet.

So much for playing it cool.