Page 118 of The Viper's Wife

The stairs.

I turn and scramble for the stairwell, opening the door and sprinting up the steps.

Hot coals drop into my lungs, searing my throat with each sawing breath, but I don’t stop and I don’t slow down.

Until I get to the fourth floor and see Giovanni waiting for me at the top.

His suit jacket is off, slung over the handrail of the stairs. His gloves are gone.

He sighs.

I don’t think—I act, flying up the last set of stairs, and swing.

Giovanni kicks—it connects, and I’m thrown down the stairs, tumbling ass-over-head until I land at the bottom, my back slamming into the concrete wall and all the burning air in my lungs pumps out like the bellows of a forge.

Giovanni rolls up his dress shirt with slow, methodical movements. “We didn’t have to get to this point, Nicolo,” he says in Italian.

I spit on the concrete and push myself up to standing. “Where is Valeria?”

“She’s in your bedroom where I left her.”

“Did you fucking touch her?”

The second Giovanni’s foot hits the bottom stair, I burst toward him.

My fist connects with his jaw—crack.

I throw punch after punch, striking his stomach, his kidneys, his ribs, his face. And Giovanni’s slow—he’s always been a slow fighter. I think I have a chance.

Until he hits me back.

It’s like an eighteen-wheeler slamming into me. I gasp for breath as I dodge his second punch and throw my body against his.

He lands another strike. And another.

For every two hits I get on him, he lands a heavy blow on me. But I don’t stop. Not when my rib cracks in, or when I can barely see through my swollen eyes.

“Enough,” Giovanni shouts. He throws me onto the concrete platform.

Everything is shattered, but I still push myself up until Giovanni plants a shoe on my chest and grinds me into the floor.

“Listen, you little shit,” he says. “I told you what would happen, and you still chose not to listen. This is the least of what you deserve, and you and I both know it.”

I try to spit on his shoe, but just end up spitting on myself. I laugh weakly. My ribs are on fire.

Giovanni fixes me with a look of disgust.

“Your father was ready to send off Valeria and introduce a new woman of his choosing, but I convinced him off of it.”

“My hero,” I croak out.

“It is time to grow up. You are a part of this Family. You must work. You must make an heir. This is your last chance. If you fuck up again and disobey any of your father’s orders, he’ll make her leave, or he’ll kill her.”

Giovanni stands upright and groans. He presses a hand to his waist. “And I wouldn’t have beaten you up so bad if you hadn’t tried to kill me.”

He turns and drags himself heavily back up the stairs. As his hand touches his suit jacket, I force air through my lungs.

“Giovanni,” I groan.