Page 48 of The Viper's Wife

“Great. Take the truck where it needs to go.”

“Me?” he squeaks.

I tilt my head slightly, giving him the unnerving look Father sometimes gives people to make them talk. “Still have no idea where Valeria got that bruise?”

He looks like he might cry. “No.”

“Then you better hurry up. You’re running late.”

10

VALERIA

I’m so late.

I check my phone for directions again, dodging one woman walking her golden retriever and another pushing a stroller. Several feet below the sidewalk, the Chicago River laps against the concrete bank. I swear and tighten my coat around me as a gust of wind blows off the frigid waters and slices straight through my bones. Spring can’t come soon enough.

I burst through a set of nearby café doors and drag in a deep breath of warm, coffee-scented air.

Ruth said she’d be at one of the tables upstairs, overlooking the river. I search for the stairs, rubbing my hands together for heat.

My gaze falls on a tall,mildly attractivewrench in today’s plans.

With a grey sweater and white collar peaking out, Nico might pass as a normal, law-abiding citizen, but the convict buzz cut and snake tattoo on his neck give him away for what he is. He kicks off the wall he was leaning on and saunters toward me with a smirk.

A light headache starts to form.

He wasn’t supposed to be here today—it was just supposed to be me and the new wedding organizer, Ruth, who introduced herself at the engagement party with a business card and actual tears of joy for my upcoming nuptials.

I’m not mentally prepared to deal with Nico. In fact, I’ve been studiously avoiding all thought of him and my lapse of judgment in that bathroom, cramming every memory of his touch into the furthest recesses of my mind.

Right as Nico opens his mouth to say something snarky, stupid, or worse, I throw an open palm into the air to stop him.

“I’m not in the mood today, so just save it.”

“What’s wrong? Not looking forward to picking out the wedding of your dreams?”

I throw him a scathing look, and he laughs.

“You and I both know the wedding of my dreams would be to someoneelse.” Maybe I’m pushing him too far, but he pushed me plenty at the engagement party.

Not that he seems to care as he leans in with a vicious smile. “Would someoneelsefuck you like?—”

I hold my hand up again.

“I’m already running late,” I say, figuring I can kill two birds with one stone by venting my problems and reminding him I am a real person with actual complaints, not just an easy fuck, “and I didn’t eat breakfast or make coffee because I thought I would be here a half hour ago, but I missed the L because I didn’t hear my alarm. The neighbor’s dog kept barking all night, and I couldn’t sleep. I’m getting my period soon and my uterus is trying to stab out an escape path through my belly and I didn’t have timeto put on makeup and my bangs won’t sit right, and now,you’rehere.”

“Well, you look nice.”

I scowl. He’s clearly got one thing on his mind. “Do you know where Ruth is?”

“She’s upstairs, right next to the entrance. You can’t miss her.”

“Why do you sound like you’re not coming?” I can’t tell if it’s disappointment or annoyance that’s dropping in my belly.

“Why? You’d miss me, pretty girl?”

Instead of dignifying that with a response, I turn and head up the stairs. My belly grumbles, and the caffeine withdrawal amps up my Nico-headache, but when I see Ruth wave to me from a nearby table, I put on a polite smile.