Page 34 of The Vipers' Vow

When she gets back into the room, I hand the wine back, and she takes a couple more big sips. It's as if she's used a lot of false bravado to make her deal with me and now she needs the wine. I gladly top up her glass and smile as she drinks some more. The more wine she has, the quicker the pills will work.

“I'll consider your offer,” I tell her, hoping it’ll buy me time.

She nods. “That doesn't mean tonight doesn't happen, though. I still want you, Saint. My deal is separate to this evening.”

This is such a head fuck. Everything is so strange. I’m off kilter, and I can't make myself think clearly. Half of me is missing, and he’s my voice of reason. It means I’m flying solo, probably the first time in my life when it comes to making such big, serious decisions. Still, I can't go back on my plan now because she's just swallowed at least half the second glass of wine, and those pills will be kicking in very soon.

She smiles at me, and it's a bit sloppy, just that little bit messy, and I smile in return because the drug is beginning to work its way through her system. She lifts her hand and dusts her finger across the cut on my lip.

“Does it hurt?” she asks.

I shake my head.

She inches closer, gazing up at me, cheeks flushed, her intent clear. “Good.”

I lean in and kiss her hard, smearing her lipstick as I do. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back. Pain from my split lip spikes through me, but I ignore it. I deserve the pain. It's so strange to have a different woman's lips on my mouth after so much time with Vani, and my body recoils. I swear my cock actually shrivels and retracts inside my body. I fight every instinct not to push her away. I know this in itself could be seen as cheating by the others, but I'm not viewing it that way. I do not want to do this. My body and mind are completely checked out, and I'm just planning my next move. I only want this kiss so when Angelica wakes up tomorrow with her lipstick all over her face, she'll assume something happened between us.

I break this kiss and pull back and pretend I'm breathing heavily as if I'm overwhelmed with lust for her.

She gives a little moan and reaches for me, but I grab her hands and hold her wrists together. “Before we go any further,” I say, “tell me what you know about Jarl Olsen.”

The wine and the drugs are working too fast for me to get much out of her now. Her gaze is unfocused, and her lips keep flipping between a smirk and a pout. Her head lolls a little to one side and her eyelids flutter shut and then open again as though she’s struggling to stay awake.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” she whines. “It’s boring.”

“Just tell me, how well do you know him?”

“Not that well, but he trusted me because I was Reagan’s friend.” Then she leans in dramatically. “Or so he thinks.”

I freeze. “You weren’t Reagan’s friend?”

She scoffs. “Hell, no. Stuck up bitch. You liked her, though, huh? You liked her a lot. How come you keep picking women way less pretty than me, Saint? Huh? We could be such a perfect power couple in our world, but you keep picking the naïve, ugly girls.”

“Ugly?” The word pops out before I can stop it. I’m not thinking about Reagan but Vani.

“Yeah, Reagan was sooooo boring, and Vani is trashy and fat.”

My blood boils. “You are supposed to be her friend. Do you talk about all your friends that way?”

She scoffs. “Sheismy friend, silly, but I’m honest. I noticed you on my first day.” She holds up one finger. “Day one, and yet you ignored me for all these lesser girls.”

“What happened with Reagan? Do you know?” I ask urgently.

I picture myself taking this information back to Vani, and what a hero that will make me in her eyes. All Vani ever wanted to know was what happened to Reagan, and now I suspect Angelica knows more than she’s let on. Did she say or do something that made Reagan jump? Surely she’s not capable of such a thing?

But her eyes are rolling back in her head. “This wine is strong,” she slurs.

I sigh, because just as I’m about to ask her again, she passes out, slumping against the back of the couch.

“Angelica.” I lightly slap her face, and her eyes flicker.

She smiles softly and murmurs, “I took care of the problem.”

What?

“Angelica?” What the fuck did she mean by that? I give her a shake, but she’s completely out of it.

Fuck. My plan has gone the way I intended it to, but Angelica was about to tell me so much that I needed to know, and now she’s unconscious.Merde.

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