Chapter 8 - The Viper’s Bite
Richard moved like a serpent through the dim bedchamber, his tailored charcoal coat rustling faintly against the carpet. He approached the bed, where Julian had arranged pillows beneath the duvet to mimic a sleeping, incapacitated body.
""Forgive me, dear cousin,"" Richard whispered, raising the brass syringe to the light. ""A second dose to finish what the little baker girl started. Cardiac arrest is such a tragic, sudden thing.""
Clara held her breath, her back pressed flush against Julian’s broad, warm chest. Julian didn't move; his breathing was silent, regulated, terrifyingly calm. He waited until Richard plunged the needle deeply into the mound of blankets before making his move.
Julian stepped out from the curtains, the revolver cocked with a deafening metallic click.
""Looking for a vein, Richard?"" Julian’s voice sliced through the shadows like a blade.
Richard froze, the syringe still buried in the linen. His face drained of color, his jaw slackening in pure horror as he turned to see Julian fully dressed, armed, and alive.
""Julian... you... the doctor said you were unconscious,"" Richard stammered, raising his trembling hands in the air.
""Dr. Sterling works for the man who pays his debts,"" Julian remarked coldly, taking two deliberate steps forward. ""Drop the syringe, Richard. Or I swear on Marcus’s memory, I will paint that headboard with your brains.""
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Richard let go of the brass instrument, which tumbled harmlessly onto the bed. ""You don't understand, Julian! It wasn't my idea! Genevieve orchestrated everything!""
""I know,"" Julian replied smoothly. ""Which is why you are going to help us bury her.""
