Page 55 of Viper’s Reign
Noah is waiting in the hallway, the other men gone, scurried off to hide from my wrath.
“We did it to protect you,” he says, as if I don’t already know. “We needed to find out who sent her before they could send anyone else.”
I glare at him. “No one else is coming. She was it. Only a coward sends a woman to do a man’s work. She failed, and I bet your life they’re too scared to send anyone ever again.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It means whatever I say it means!”
Noah bites his tongue, silencing himself for a moment. But only a moment. “She’s no woman,” he quietly warns. “She’s a viper, and she’ll finish the job if you let her.”
“Not if I finish her first.”
There’s only room for one viper in this house, and it’s not her.
“Be careful—”
“You’re dismissed,” I interrupt.
Noah hesitates briefly before nodding. My fists clench as I watch him go.
He’s right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. My little flame is a viper, and I couldn’t be prouder… or more enraged.
She tricked me. I’ll make sure she’s punished accordingly.
I make my way back to my room, where Arabelle is no doubt waiting to check my vitals. Getting her to remove the IV this morning was a struggle—she can be stubborn as hell when she wants to be—but I’m already feeling better. Stronger. Whatever she was giving me must have worked.
If Grace was as competent as her, I’d be dead by now.
I’m just outside my bedroom door when a thought suddenly stops me in my tracks.
No. Grace Turner isn’t incompetent. She’s proved that much to me already. And from the little I know about her outside life, she’s not exactly an underachiever.
An orphan putting herself through nursing school is a hell of a feat. She’s already applied for graduation, too, right? All she has left is to take the licensing exam before she becomes a registered nurse.
The fact that she gave it to you subcutaneously is what saved you. That slowed the absorption enough to give you a chance. Intravenously, and you would have been dead before your men reached the room.
Arie’s words ring through my head.
Grace must have known that.
Does that mean she did it on purpose? But why? If the plan was to kill me, why give me a chance to survive?
The questions swirl as I open the bedroom door to find Arabelle already glaring at me. I stare back, and almost immediately, a plan starts to take shape in my mind.
I know how I’m going to get Grace Turner to talk.
20
GRACE
For the first time in God knows how many days, I’m in an actual room. A warm bedroom that doesn’t smell like damp stone and metal. My toes sink into a plush navy rug, and I stand there for a moment, letting the feeling register.
It’s still a prison, I know that. But a gilded one beats what I had before, so I’ll take it without complaint.
I glance around quickly: a closet against one wall, a small desk and chair, and a door I’m praying leads to a private bathroom. My bare feet glide smoothly as I cross to it—I didn’t exactly have time to put on heels before being taken to the dungeon. Thank God I’d put on my dress before Dimitri came back into the room. Otherwise, I might have been taken to that cell naked. The thought makes me shudder as I open the door.
My shoulders sag with relief when I find that the door does lead to a bathroom—a bathroom bigger than the one Millie and I share at home, which isn’t saying much, but feels like extraordinary luxury right now.
