Page 76 of Viper’s Reign

I wake up to my cock throbbing, and I groan when I realize why.

Grace is wrapped around me—arms hooked over my shoulder, face buried in my throat, legs tangled with mine. And she’s moving. Small, rhythmic rolls of her hips against my thigh, the softest whimpers spilling from her lips, her eyes still closed.

“Dimitri…” she moans, and it’s like a shot of electricity through me.

Fuck. She’s dreaming about me. And humping me, chasing the pleasure I’ve been denying her. My cock twitches in response, eager to give her what she wants—what we both want.

No. It’s bad enough she’s here in my bed again after what happened the last time. I’m not giving in until I know the truth. All of it. Not the scraps she threw at me last night.

Detangling myself from her takes Herculean control. She mumbles in protest, rolls face-down into the space I vacated, and falls right back into sleep like nothing happened. I watch her for a second, reluctant to leave her side.

Soft.

The quiet echo of Noah’s accusation prompts me to get moving. I push off the bed and make my way to the bathroom, turning the shower as cold as it will go. By the time I step out, I’m shivering, my cock only half-hard—about the best I’m going to get without giving it what it wants.

I don’t even know why I’m denying myself. Just because she can’t come doesn’t mean I shouldn’t. But it feels… fitting.

A punishment, maybe, for not being able to fully detach myself from her. Any other woman who’d pulled what she did, I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. But here I am using sexual torture as an excuse to put my hands on her. She’s like an addiction I can’t quit, even though I’ve gotten firsthand proof of how bad she is for me.

I get dressed and head to my study, where the information I’ve been waiting on is finally sitting on my laptop. Millicent Wilson and Levi Williams both. I click on Millicent’s profile first, my brows furrowing as I read.

Her background is bleaker than Grace’s, which I hadn’t thought possible. Born to a teenage mother who’d survived a sexual assault, she grew up knowing exactly how she came into the world, enduring her mother’s resentment for it. On her sixth birthday, her mother took her to the park, excused herself to use the restroom, and never came back. Millicent went into the system from there and eventually ended up in the same group home as Grace, where they became friends.

I can’t. My friend⁠—

My gut tightens. This has to be the friend Grace is so worried about.

A knock sounds at the door before Noah lets himself in. “Got anything solid on Levi Williams yet? My search only turned up surface-level shit, so I’m hoping your fancy software found something better.”

“Hold on.” I close Millicent’s tab and pull up Levi’s.

At first glance, he seems to be another low-level warehouse worker, an ordinary family man, nothing remarkable—until a small detail catches my attention. A cousin. A random coffee meet-up two months ago. I follow the thread… and who is this woman married to? Xavier Harrison, Daniel Salvi’s driver.

“As a matter of fact, I think my software did.” I grin.

Noah comes around my desk to read over my shoulder. “My God. We got him. We’ve got that bastard.”

“Almost,” I correct, but I’m smiling as I grab my phone and jot down Levi’s home address. “I think it’s time we paid Levi a visit.”

“I’ll text Pavel to get the cars ready,” he says, already typing.

“Perfect. But we’re making a stop first. Flatbush.” I shrug on my jacket and move to the door.

His frown follows me into the hallway. “What’s in Flatbush?”

Grace’s apartment. Millicent. If Grace won’t talk, maybe her friend will. “We’ll see.”

The cars are pulling into the driveway when we get outside. Pavel hops out of mine with a quick nod before moving to the second car. Noah heads for the driver’s side out of habit, but I stop him. “I’ll drive today.”

He tosses me a look that says several things but doesn’t argue, rounding the hood to take the passenger side instead as I slide behind the wheel. I start the engine, and the car rumbles to life.

“Are you seriously not going to tell me more about where we’re going?” Noah asks as I pull out of the driveway and onto the road. Mom is outside her house when we pass, so I slow down long enough to wave. She waves back, grinning, then continues watering her plants.

“Well?” he presses when I still don’t answer.

I flick him a glance. He’ll piece it together when we get there anyway, so I relent. “Grace’s apartment. I want to check it out.”

“You already have her in custody, and I know you’ve got some information on her. What else is there to check?”