Page 4 of Desperate Crimes

Her lips are red and soft, and she laughs with someone—a friend, maybe—and I want to kill him for making her smile like that.

She doesn’t see me.

Not really.

But I see her.

I see everything.

And I feel it—deep in my bones—that the time is coming.

Everything I’ve built.

Every step I’ve taken.

Every deal, every alliance, every ruthless fucking decision has been for this.

For her. For us.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

But she will.

I can’t take her yet—not like this.

Not before I finish tying off the last few threads.

Not until the world I’m building is worthy of her throne.

Because when I come for her?

She won’t see me coming.

And when she falls?

She’s falling straight into the arms of the Viper who’s loved her in silence for far too long.

And I will never let her go.

I know it as surely as I know my name, Nico Samuel Fury Jr. and even now, as I stand near the bar, half-hidden behind a polished column wrapped in garland and white lights, sipping from a glass I’ve refilled twice without drinking, I can feel it coming.

Soon. Just not yet.

So, for now, I wait, and I watch.

She flits from group to group, making merry and greeting guests.

She hugs someone—some prick acquaintance I’ve always hated—and I have to unclench my jaw before I crack a molar.

She’s not doing anything wrong.

She's not flirting.

She’s just being her.

Warm. Thoughtful. Effortless.

And so damn beautiful it makes my chest ache.