Page 108 of Beautiful Venom

“Bitch, please. One game doesn’t define a season. Get your facts straight, morons.”

"Funny how a one-off win has Wolves fans foaming at the mouth. Desperate looks good on you.”

“The Wolves got lucky, but luck runs out. Vipers never do, motherfuckers.”

And when Wolves fans engaged, she was so passive-aggressive, calling them all sorts of names and trolling the hell out of them.

Jesus Christ.

She’s like the most toxic little hellion online, channeling the fans’ illogical feelings about games. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her curse this way in real life, but she’s proficient online.

It puts a smile on my face. At least she’s moved on from the Wolves and their bastard captain.

The thought that Osborn has had his hands on her before me makes me murderous.

I close the laptop and stroke a strand of hair that’s fallen on her face behind her ear.

She moans softly and leans into my palm, nuzzling her cheek as if she’s a dog.

This woman will be the death of me.

Her eyes blink open and she stares at me for a few seconds under the delicate early-morning light. The hazel slowly transforms into the clearest, most enchanting green.

She’s so fucking beautiful, it’s hard to look at her without feeling a burn.

As if waking from a daze, Dahlia springs up and stares between me and the patient, her posture stiffening.

Seeing her transform into protective mode in the blink of an eye is fascinating.

“What are you doing here?” she asks in a clear, hard voice.

Well, fuck. I came without a second thought, so I didn’t properly think of an excuse.

“An early-morning checkup before practice.”

“Don’t you have private doctors?”

“I do, but I needed to undergo tissue testing with a machine that’s only available here.”

She narrows her eyes. “How did you know I was in this room?”

“Jude.”

“Jude?”

Sorry, big man. I owe you one.

I motion behind me to the other inert patient in the room. “That’s his personal guard.”

“Oh.” She frowns. “I’ve never seen Jude visit him.”

“Not when you’re here since he doesn’t like company. If you don’t believe me, you can ask him.”

She hikes a hand on her hip. “Thenyouask him. Call him and put it on speaker.”

“It sounds like you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t. Go on.”

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