pleasure on credit.
Steven's Pov
The money felt heavier than usual, six thousand dollars in clean crisp bills, stacked nearly on the small glass table in my apartment.
I counted slowly, deliberately. Once, twice. A third time just to calm the itch crawling on my skin.
Vipers didn't lend money; they invested in consequences.
Tasha stood by the window, phone in hand. She was wearing one of my shirts, it was too big of course, slipping off one shoulder like it didn't belong there.
The lights reflected against the glass, outlining her figure in a way that made my chest tighten.
"You took long enough," she said without turning.
I scoffed lightly, "You said you needed it today. You didn't say what time."
She turned then, eyes flicking down on the money before lifting
