CLAIMED BY THE VIPER

Chapter 8: The Ledger

I left her room with her scent still clinging to my skin and her words echoing in my ears.

"I believe in you."

No one had said that to me in years. Not since Marco. I had forgotten what it felt like to have someone look at me and see something other than a monster. But she saw me. She saw the man I used to be, the man I was trying to become. And that terrified me more than any enemy I had ever faced.

Because if I failed her, I would never forgive myself.

I walked through the clubhouse with my head down, my boots heavy against the worn floorboards. The common room was quiet, the men nursing their drinks, their eyes flickering toward me with suspicion. I had made a scene earlier. I had threatened Spider in front of half the club. Word traveled fast.

I didn't care. Let them talk. I had bigger things to worry about.

The ledger. Cross needed the ledger. And the ledger was hidden in Bishop's office, locked in a safe behind his desk. I had been inside Bishop's office dozens of times. I knew the layout, the security, his patterns. He was a creature of habit. He left his office at exactly nine o'clock every night to make his rounds.

That gave me a window. A small one, but enough.

I walked to the garage and began to work on my bike, my hands moving on autopilot as I ran through the plan. The safe was an old model, a combination lock. I had been watching Bishop for years, memorizing the sequence. The code was 4829, the year his father had founded the club. Arrogant. Predictable. And about to be his downfall.

The hours passed slowly. Nine o'clock came, and I watched from the shadows as Bishop emerged from his office and walked through the common room. I waited until he was out of sight, then made my move.

The hallway was empty, the door to Bishop's office unlocked. I slipped inside and closed it behind me, my heart pounding against my ribs. I crossed to the desk, moved the painting aside, and knelt in front of the safe. My fingers found the dial.

4829. The combination I had been waiting three years to use.

The safe clicked open. Inside was a stack of cash, a few weapons, and a leather bound ledger. I pulled it out and began to flip through the pages, my eyes scanning the entries with growing excitement. Names. Dates. Transactions. Everything Cross needed.

But as I reached the middle, I saw something that made my blood run cold.

My brother's name. Marco Russo. Listed as a witness who had to be "silenced." The entry was dated three years ago, the same week Marco had died. Bishop had ordered his death. Bishop had signed off on the killing of a nineteen year old kid who had seen too much.

I felt my hands begin to shake, the ledger trembling in my grip as the rage washed over me. I wanted to find Bishop and kill him. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until the life drained from his eyes.

But I couldn't. Not yet. Not until the mission was complete.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I photographed the relevant pages with my phone, then carefully replaced the ledger in the safe and locked it. I moved the painting back into place and crossed to the door.

And then I heard footsteps in the hallway.

My heart seized as I pressed myself against the wall. If Bishop found me in his office, the mission would be over. I would be dead, and Elena would be at Spider's mercy.

But the footsteps passed by without stopping. I let out a slow breath and slipped out of the office, closing the door behind me.

I had the evidence. I had the ledger. And I had the name of the man who had ordered my brother's death.

Now all I had to do was survive long enough to use it.

I found Elena in her room, pacing the small space like a caged animal. She looked up when I entered, her eyes widening with relief.

"You're okay," she said. "I was so worried. I heard shouting”

"I'm fine," I said, closing the door. "I have it. The ledger. I have everything I need."

She stared at me. "What happened? You look... you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Marco," I said, my voice rough. "My brother. Bishop ordered his death. It's in the ledger. He signed off on it himself."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, Dante. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I said, the words coming out sharper than intended. "Be ready. I'm going to get you out of here tonight."

"Tonight?" She looked startled. "But... what about you? What about the mission?"

"I'll finish it. But first, I need to make sure you're safe. I can't focus on anything else if I know you're still in danger."

She stepped closer, her hand reaching out to touch my arm. The contact sent a jolt of warmth through my body. "I don't want to leave you. I know it's crazy. I know we barely know each other. But I don't want to go while you're still in danger."

"You can't stay. It's too dangerous. And if something happened to you..."

"Nothing's going to happen to me," she said, her voice firm. "Because you're going to protect me. You promised."

I looked into her eyes, those green depths that had seen through my mask. She believed in me. She trusted me. And I would do anything to keep her safe.

"I promise," I said. "I'll protect you. I'll get you out of here. And then I'll finish what I started."

She nodded. "Then let's go."

Getting Elena out of the clubhouse was easier than I had expected. The men were gathered in the common room, their attention focused on a card game and cheap whiskey. I led her through the back hallways, my hand wrapped around her wrist, my eyes scanning the shadows.

We reached the garage. I guided her toward my bike, handed her a helmet. "You're going to be okay," I said. "I'm going to take you to a safe house. And when this is all over, I'll come back for you."

She looked up at me, her green eyes glowing in the dim light. "Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise. I keep my promises."

I swung onto the bike and felt her arms wrap around my waist, her body pressed against my back. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through my veins. For the first time in three years, I felt almost whole.

The engine roared to life, and the bike surged forward into the night. The wind whipped past us, cold and sharp, but I barely felt it. All I could feel was the warmth of her body against mine, the rhythm of her breathing, the fragile trust that had formed between us.

I would get her to safety. I would finish my mission. And then I would figure out what came after.

Because for the first time in a long time, I had something to live for.