CLAIMED BY THE VIPER

Chapter 4: The Watcher

I walked out of her room with my heart pounding against my ribs, and I hated myself for it.

Three years. Three years I had spent inside the Iron Vipers, building my reputation, earning their trust, burying my humanity so deep I had started to believe it was gone forever. I had done things in those three years that would haunt me until the day I died. I had hurt people. I had killed people. I had looked at myself in the mirror and seen a stranger staring back.

And then she had looked at me with those green eyes, soft and sharp and impossibly brave, and she had called me by my real name. She had seen past the monster I had become and found the man I used to be.

I didn't know whether to thank her or hate her for it.

The hallway was empty when I stepped out, the morning light filtering through the grimy windows. I leaned against the wall and pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to push back the flood of emotions. I couldn't afford to care about her. Caring was a liability. Caring was how people got killed.

But I couldn't stop. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face. Every time I tried to focus on my mission, her voice echoed in my ears. She was a distraction, a complication, a weakness I couldn't afford. And yet, when Bishop had threatened to hurt her, I had stepped in without hesitation. When she had asked me to stay, I had stayed.

I was playing a dangerous game, and I knew it.

I pushed myself off the wall and made my way down the stairs. The common room was already buzzing with activity. Spider was at the bar, nursing a drink, and he looked up when I entered.

"Ravage," he called out. "You're up early. Couldn't sleep? Or did the judge's daughter keep you up all night?"

I didn't respond. I walked past him toward the garage.

But Spider was persistent. He fell into step beside me. "Word is you're getting soft on her. Spending too much time in her room. Bringing her clothes and food like she's your pet."

I stopped walking and turned to face him. "Word is you talk too much, Spider. People who talk too much tend to have accidents."

His smile faltered. "Is that a threat, brother?"

"It's a promise."

Spider held my gaze for a moment, then stepped back with a dismissive wave. "Whatever you say, Ravage. Just remember, Bishop doesn't like it when his soldiers go rogue."

I didn't respond. I turned and walked away.

The garage was empty, the familiar smell of oil and gasoline filling my lungs. This was the only place I felt almost at peace. I walked to the workbench and pulled out the file Bishop had given me. The evidence was all there, carefully documented, names, dates, financial records. Everything the feds would need to bring them down.

But it wasn't enough. Not yet.

I spread the documents across the workbench and began to copy them with my phone, photographing each page. It was tedious work, but necessary. One mistake, and everything I had worked for would be destroyed.

I was halfway through when I heard footsteps behind me. I tensed, my hand instinctively reaching for the knife in my boot, but I forced myself to relax when I recognized Bishop's heavy tread.

"Ravage," he said. "Working early."

"Just going over the file," I said, keeping my voice level. "Making sure I haven't missed anything."

Bishop walked toward me, his presence filling the small space. He glanced at the documents spread across the workbench, and I felt a cold knot of fear tighten in my stomach. If he noticed the phone in my hand, everything would be over.

But Bishop just nodded slowly. "Good. We need to move quickly. The judge's partners are still out there. We can't afford to give them time to find answers."

"We won't," I said. "I'll have a list of names by the end of the day."

Bishop's eyes met mine, and I saw the suspicion lurking beneath the surface. He didn't trust me completely. But he nodded again. "Keep me updated." He turned to leave, then paused. "And Ravage watch yourself. I don't like the way Spider has been looking at you. He's got a grudge."

"I can handle Spider."

"I'm sure you can." Bishop walked out, leaving me alone with the evidence.

I finished copying the file and returned to my room, securing the documents in a hidden compartment beneath the floorboards. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the clubhouse. I had been in contact with Agent Cross, my handler, for three years. He was getting impatient. He wanted results.

I couldn't give him the full file yet. There were still gaps. But I could give him enough to buy me more time.

I pulled out my phone and typed a coded message: "Progress made. New evidence obtained. Meeting tomorrow. Same place."

The reply came a few minutes later: "Confirmed."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The pieces were falling into place. The mission was moving forward. And if everything went according to plan, the Iron Vipers would be destroyed within the month.

But even as I thought the words, I knew they weren't true. Because somewhere down the hall, in a small room with a high window and a lock on the door, a green eyed girl was waiting for me to save her.

And I was beginning to realize that saving her was more important than any revenge.

I didn't go to her room that night. I told myself it was because I needed to focus on the mission. 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 forget everything I had worked for and lose myself in her completely.

Instead, I sat in my room, staring at the ceiling, and let the guilt wash over me. Marco's face floated behind my eyes, young and hopeful and full of trust. He had believed I would protect him. And I had failed him.

I couldn't fail again. I couldn't let Elena become another ghost in my long list of regrets.

But the only way to save her was to destroy the Vipers. And the only way to destroy the Vipers was to finish what I had started.

I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion pull me under. Tomorrow, I would meet with Cross. Tomorrow, I would move one step closer to my goal. And tomorrow, I would see her again, whether I was ready for it or not.

But tonight, I let myself sleep. And in my dreams, I saw Marco's face, and Elena's face, and they were both reaching for me, and I couldn't save either of them.