CLAIMED BY THE VIPER

Chapter 6: The Promise

I found Spider in the common room, surrounded by his usual cronies, a bottle of whiskey in his hand and that smug smile plastered across his face. He saw me coming, his eyes flickering with anticipation. He wanted a reaction. He wanted to see me lose control.

I didn't give him the satisfaction.

I walked up to him slowly, my boots heavy against the worn floorboards, and stopped just inches from his face. The men around him fell silent, their eyes darting between us like spectators at a blood sport. Spider's smile faltered.

"Ravage," he said, his voice dripping with false warmth. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You went to her room," I said, my voice flat and cold. "You broke the lock. You threatened her."

Spider's smile widened. "I was just saying hello. Making sure she was comfortable. You can't blame a man for being curious."

"I can blame him for being stupid."

The air grew thick with tension. The men around us shifted uncomfortably, their hands moving toward their weapons. Spider's eyes narrowed, the smile finally fading from his face.

"Watch your mouth, Ravage," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You may be Bishop's pet enforcer, but that doesn't give you the right to talk to me like that."

"I'll talk to you however I want," I said, leaning closer. "And if you ever go near her again, if you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'll kill you. Not slowly. Not painlessly. I'll make sure everyone in this room knows exactly what happens to men who don't follow orders."

Spider's face went pale, his bravado crumbling. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He was too scared to speak.

I straightened up and turned away, my gaze sweeping across the room. The men who had been watching quickly looked away, suddenly finding the floor or their drinks incredibly interesting. They knew better than to get involved in a fight between me and Spider. They knew my reputation.

The reputation of a man who had no mercy, no compassion, no hesitation.

It was a lie, of course. I had compassion. I had mercy. But those things were buried so deep inside me that I barely recognized them anymore. And for the sake of my mission, for the sake of Elena, I needed to keep them buried.

I walked out of the common room and into the garage, the familiar smell of oil and gasoline enveloping me. My hands were shaking. The adrenaline was still coursing through my veins. I had threatened to kill Spider in front of half the club, and I had meant every word.

If Bishop found out, he would know something was wrong. He would know I had a weakness that could be exploited. And he would use it against me.

I couldn't let that happen. I had to be smart. I had to be careful.

But every time I thought about Elena, about her green eyes and her trembling voice and the way she had looked at me with that fragile trust, I felt my resolve crumbling. She was becoming more than just a complication. She was becoming my reason for everything.

I didn't go to her room that night. I told myself I needed to keep my distance. But the truth was simpler and more terrifying: I was afraid. Afraid of what I was feeling. Afraid that if I saw her again, I would lose myself completely.

But the next morning, I found myself standing outside her door, a tray of food in my hands. I had told myself I was just bringing her breakfast. I had told myself I needed to check on her after Spider's visit. But the truth was I needed to see her.

The lock was still broken. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. She was sitting on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, her green eyes fixed on me.

"You came back," she said, her voice soft and surprised.

"I told you I would," I said, setting the tray on the table. "I keep my promises."

She smiled, just a little, and the sight of it made something shift in my chest. She was so fragile, so broken, and yet there was a strength in her that I couldn't deny. She had faced Spider's threats and Bishop's cruelty and the death of her father, and she was still standing.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For protecting me. For... being here."

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't used to kindness. I was used to fear and suspicion.

"I need to tell you something," I said, the words spilling out. "About why I'm here. About what I'm doing."

She sat up straighter. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready."

"I want to." I took a deep breath. "My brother, Marco. He was nineteen. He saw something he shouldn't have seen, and the Vipers killed him. I found him in a warehouse, bleeding out on the floor. He died in my arms."

Her hand reached out, hovering near mine. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just listen. I joined the Vipers three years ago. I've been working undercover, gathering evidence. I'm going to destroy them. I'm going to burn this whole place to the ground."

She stared at me, her eyes wide with shock. "But... you killed my father."

I flinched. "I was there. I was part of the crew. But I didn't pull the trigger. I didn't know they were going to kill him. When the shots started firing, it was too late to stop it."

She was silent for a long moment, her gaze searching my face. "You're telling me the truth?"

"Yes. I've never lied to you, Elena. Not about anything that matters."

She nodded slowly. "What happens now? What happens to me?"

"I'm going to get you out of here," I said. "I have a meeting with my handler tonight. I'm going to give him everything I have. And then I'm going to come back for you. I'm going to take you somewhere safe."

Her eyes widened. "You mean it? You're really going to get me out?"

"I promise. I promise I'll get you out of here. I promise I'll keep you safe. And I promise that when this is over, you'll never have to see this place again."

She reached out, her hand closing around mine. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through my body. Her skin was soft and warm.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, Dante."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to tell her that she was the reason I was still fighting. So I just held her hand and let the silence stretch between us.

When I finally pulled away, I felt the loss of her touch like a physical ache. I had to go. I had to meet Cross. But I would be back. I would come for her.

Because I had made a promise. And I kept my promises.