Chapter 4 - The Game of Vipers
Sunday passed in a strange, tense quiet.
The estate staff moved like ghosts, whispering in corners, casting nervous glances toward the master suite. Camille spent the afternoon sequestered in the east wing with a wedding planner, her laughter ringing out too loudly, a brittle performance of triumph.
Adeline remained by Nico’s side, administering the real medications she had managed to secure through an old medical school contact in downtown Chicago—antidotes that began flushing the neurotoxin from his system within hours.
By Sunday evening, Nico was able to stand—not for long, and only with the heavy bracing of parallel bars installed secretly in his private gymnasium, but the feeling was returning to his thighs. The dead weight was starting to thaw.
“How’s the grip?” Adeline asked, steadying his elbow as he took a shaky, agonizing step between the rails.
“Like iron,” Nico gritted out, sweat beading on his forehead as his muscles screamed in protest. He lowered himself back into the custom chair, breathing heavily, but his eyes were blazing. “Monday morning changes everything.”
“Are you sure your men are in place?”
“Vince and Marco have locked down the perimeter gates. No one leaves the estate tomorrow until the probate judge reads the amended corporate charter,” Nico said, wiping his brow with a towel. He looked up at her, his expression softening just a fraction. “You should have run, Adeline. When you had the chance.”
“And left Wes without a surgeon?” She shook her head, a faint, defiant smile touching her lips. “Besides, nobody calls me a piece of furniture and gets away with it.”
May you like
Nico laughed—a genuine, deep sound that chased the shadows from the room.
“God help anyone who ever crosses you, Adeline Marsh.”
