the news, but that relief swiftly turned to bitterness.
She is a traitor. There is no question in my mind. I am certain of it, and I have had little else to do but replay that moment over and over. That kiss. The kiss of death she so eagerly bestowed upon me.
Poison fucking Ivy.
For days, I have laid here, strapped to a hospital bed like a goddamned lunatic, going out of my mind with alternating rage and frustration. I asked myself how she could possibly do this to me. How I didn't see it coming. And there is only one answer.
She is a Moreno. Regardless of our marriage certificate. Regardless of my mark inked into her skin. She still carries those defective genes that will forever make her a viper. And I am more certain of it now than I have ever been.
My wife will die by my hand. As sure as the sun will rise, I will spit on her grave once I've wrung every last ounce of life from her body. She thinks she has known suffering, but she has never experienced the true depths of my depravity or what I am capable of. And there will be no peace in my soul until I taste her blood on my lips as her life slips away.
She will bear my children. And she will know nothing but misery until her last breath. That is the promise I make to myself in the quiet solitude of my thoughts. It is the only solace that gets me through each passing day, waiting for the time when I can return to her, the devil reborn.
"I know what you're thinking," Judge tells me. "It's written all over your face, Santiago. But I should tell you, we haven't yet been able to find the evidence to condemn her. We've searched the compound. Her purse. Your car. Every inch of every space she encountered that evening, including The Manor. But it's turned up nothing."
I reach out for the water on my bedside table, hand trembling as I bring it to my lips to take a drink. And for the first time in days, I try again to move my lips—to form words—and to my surprise, it actually works. My throat is dry, and it’s uncomfortable, but I forge on, insisting on having my answers.
"No sedative today?"
Judge cocks his head to the side and shrugs. "Not as long as you don't get ahead of yourself again."
"Tell me everything," I rasp. "I need to know."
He studies me for a moment, trying to determine something for himself. "I will tell you as long as you give me your word that you will stay here until you are given the all clear from Dr. Rosseau. I'm getting rather tired of sedating you."
"You have my word." I meet his gaze so there can be no misunderstanding about my intent.
There is no question I want to leave this place, but he is right, and I can see that now. It would only give Ivy more pleasure to allow her to see me in such a state. To allow her for one second to think she had truly hurt me. As if she could ever possess that power.
"What is the last thing you remember?" Judge asks.
"Ivy kissed me at the gala, and then I collapsed," I answer coldly.
He nods, folding his hands across his lap as he considers where to begin. "You were very lucky Dr. Rosseau was in attendance that evening. He heard the commotion when the paramedics were wheeling you away, and he rode to the hospital with you. When he'd heard what happened, he began decontamination right away. They stripped you down, and he cleaned your skin, examining the traces of lipstick. He said it was oily, which, amongst your other symptoms, indicated something quite unexpected."
"What was it?" I ask.
"A chemical nerve agent that has been used in several high-profile assassinations."
"A nerve agent?" I ask incredulously.
It doesn't sound right. How could Ivy possibly get her hands on a nerve agent?
"It's been banned in the US for decades, and by all accounts, the military stockpile destroyed. But like most things, it can be purchased on the black market. It's capable of being delivered as a gas or, in your case, dermally. An innocent touch can be deadly to the recipient since it is rarely tested for unless it is suspected. Fortunately, Dr. Rosseau followed his instincts within moments of your arrival at the hospital, by which time you had already been