Page 4 of The Viper
I leaned back in my chair, letting my hair fall over the edge. The sky was full of constellations I didn’t know, but I liked that. Not knowing. Not being in control for once.
I smiled at the thought of it—me, here, in this strange pocket of the South, about to make something beautiful.
The script had been sitting on my desk for nearly a year before I’d said yes. Too dark, my team warned. Too risky, too far from the brand I’d built. But something about the story had stuck with me: a woman trying to rebuild her life after the kind of loss that makes you question who you are.
Maybe it was the timing. Maybe it was me. But I couldn’t turn it down.
“I think this movie’s going to be special,” I said after a while. “The story, the cast, the location—it all feels … right. Like it might change things.”
“Professionally?” Hannah asked.
“Maybe more than that.”
She tilted her head, studying me. “You’ve said that before.”
“I know,” I admitted, laughing softly. “But this time feels different. I don’t know why.”
And I didn’t—not exactly. Maybe I just needed something to believe in.
I stared out at the marsh until the last shimmer of light sank behind the trees. The world blurred into silhouettes—the dock, the herons, the surface of the water catching what little glow was left. It was beautiful.
Tomorrow, the production would start, and I’d be surrounded by people again—directors, grips, stylists, makeup artists. They all wanted something: the right shot, the right quote, the right version of me.
I had everythingIwas supposed to want—success, beauty, even peace—and somehow it still felt like a cage.
I wanted laughter that wasn’t rehearsed. A voice beside me that wasn’t paid to stay. Someone to tell me I wasn’t just a product on a screen.
Maybe that was too much to ask.
I set down my drink and stood, the boards creaking softly beneath my feet. The air was warm against my skin, the marsh whispering secrets I couldn’t quite catch. Behind me, Hannah was already packing up the takeout boxes, efficient as ever.
“Big day tomorrow,” she said.
“Yeah,” I murmured. “Big day.”
I watched the horizon one last time before heading inside. The house felt larger now, the silence echoing through the hallways. I’d chosen it for privacy, and already I hated how well it delivered.
Still, as I slipped into bed and let the sounds of the island fade into the background, I couldn’t shake the flicker of something lighter.
Excitement. Hope.
Whatever it was, it felt good.
2
LUCAS
My fist connected with his jaw, the impact vibrating up my arm like a shockwave. Blood sprayed from his split lip, warm and sticky against my knuckles. I didn't stop. Another punch, this one to the cheekbone, cracking something beneath the skin. The man's head snapped back, but he didn't cry out—not yet. He was tough, I'd give him that. But toughness only went so far when you were zip-tied to a rickety chair in a godforsaken hut in the middle of nowhere, China.
I paused, breathing steady, my heart rate barely elevated. Years of training had turned violence into something mechanical, a tool like any other. I grabbed his chin, forcing his swollen eyes to meet mine. "Get your memory back?" I asked, my voice low, almost conversational. "Or do I need to keep going?"
He spat a glob of blood onto the dirt floor, his breath ragged. "Fuck ... you," he managed, the words slurring through his busted mouth.
Wrong answer. I drove my forehead into his nose with a sharp crack—not hard enough to knock him out, just enough tomake stars explode behind his eyes. He howled then, the sound raw and animalistic. Blood poured down his face, soaking his shirt. Good. Pain was a teacher, and this lesson needed to stick.
I untied him roughly, hauling him up by the collar. He sagged like a rag doll, but I shoved him toward my team—three grim-faced operators standing silent in the shadows of the room. "Find out everything he knows," I said, my tone flat. "Who turned him. Who he's working for. All of it."
They nodded, no questions asked. That's why they were my team—efficient, loyal, no bullshit. They dragged him toward the adjacent room, his feet scraping furrows in the dust. The door slammed shut behind them, muffling his groans. I could hear the faint thuds starting already, the interrogation picking up where I'd left off.
