Page 10 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

The car slowed as they approached a red light, and Serenity noticed a black SUV pulling alongside them. The windows were tinted, but something about it triggered her instincts. Three years managing her father's "legitimate" business interests had taught her to recognize surveillance.

"Anthony, take the next right instead of going straight."

"That's not the fastest way home, Ms. Vale."

"Just do it." Her tone left no room for argument.

The SUV followed. Of course it did.

Serenity's mind raced. The text about her father, the stakeholders' meeting, and now this tail—all within an hour of leaving Darius's penthouse. Coincidence wasn't a concept she believed in, not in her world.

"Someone's following us," she said calmly.

Anthony's eyes hardened in the mirror. "I see them. Protocol?"

"No," she decided after a moment. "Let's not make a scene. Just lose them naturally."

As Anthony navigated a series of turns designed to confuse their tail, Serenity realized how utterly unprepared she was for whatever storm had just broken. Her MBA had taught her business strategy, not how to handle whatever conspiracy was unfolding around her.

But she was still Marcus Vale's daughter, golden red eyes and all.

"I need to make a call," she announced suddenly, pulling out her phone. She dialed her head of security.

"Jackson, I need you to meet me at my penthouse. Full team. Now."

The SUV was still behind them when she hung up, closer now.

"Anthony—"

"I'm trying, Ms. Vale."

She felt it then—the strange certainty that tonight marked the end of something and the beginning of everything else. Whatever game Darius was playing, whatever her father had gotten involved in, she was now caught in the middle.

And Serenity Vale had never been anyone's pawn.

3

BLOOD INHERITANCE

~SERENITY~

Aheadphone-free evening and now this—Serenity had gone from quiet walk to ambush hell in five seconds flat.

She'd been picky, damn it, about choosing the path to her apartment—no shadowy alleys, well-lit streets, populated thoroughfares. She'd planned for everything on her route except, maybe, the most obvious.

The black SUVs came out of nowhere, screeching to synchronized halts that boxed her in from all sides like a trap sprung tight. Men in tactical gear spilled out as if from some nightmarish oil slick, faceless behind balaclavas and ski masks.

"What the fuck?" Her voice broke the silence. Serenity backed against a storefront, her golden eyes wild as they searched for any escape routes while her heart drummed a brutal solo in her chest. The street had emptied in seconds—funny how that happened right when trouble showed up for the party.

The first man stormed toward her with practiced confidence that had her blood boiling.

"Ms. Vale, you'll need to come with us."

Vale. Not the name on her driver's license. Not her public name. These weren't random thugs. These were pros.

In the time it took her attacker to close the gap, Serenity's MBA-honed mind had already mapped out a war plan.

With the fire of desperation, she calculated the odds, her body moving on instinct and adrenaline before logic had any say. Her knee shot up with vicious precision, hitting the man's groin like a guided missile. He crumpled forward, an animalistic groan tearing from his throat. Without hesitation, Serenity grabbed his shoulders for leverage and slammed her forehead into his nose, feeling the brutal satisfaction of cartilage crunching under her skin. Blood exploded from his face as he went down hard, a red mist painting the night.

---