Page 16 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

Serenity's mind raced through calculations, and contingencies. "And if I refuse to participate?"

"Then you forfeit any claim to your inheritance, and we send you to the islands immediately. The Vale empire would be divided among The Society's families." Victor's expression hardened. "And that would be... unfortunate. Your father's territories would descend into chaos. Many would die in the power vacuum."

Clever bastard, Serenity thought. Appealing to her conscience while threatening her freedom.

"The competitors have already been selected," Victor continued, sliding five dossiers across the desk. "All Alphas from prominent families. All with legitimate business interests that could absorb and legitimize portions of the Vale holdings. The Society has vetted them extensively."

Serenity flipped open the first folder, scanning the profile of an Alpha from Chicago. Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the paper. All of them would be killers, she knew. All of them would view her as property.

"And when does this spectacle begin?" she asked, proud of how steady her voice remained.

Victor glanced at his watch—a Patek Philippe worth more than most people made in a year. "Midnight tonight. We've prepared accommodations for you until then. I suggest you use the time to review these files. Knowledge is power, Ms. Vale, even for an Omega."

The thinly veiled condescension made her want to lunge across the desk. Instead, she calculated hours in her head. Eight hours. Eight hours to figure out how to turn this nightmare to her advantage.

"Midnight," she repeated. "Rather dramatic timing."

"Your father had a flair for the theatrical. We're simply honoring tradition." Victor nodded to his guards. "Escort Ms. Vale to her quarters."

As the guards moved toward her, Serenity gathered the dossiers with deliberate calm. Her mind was already three steps ahead, mapping contingencies and escape routes. If they thought she would be a passive pawn in their game, they didn't know the daughter Marcus Vale had created.

She wasn't just any Omega. She was a Vale.

And she wasn't a prize to be claimed—she was a queen selecting which piece to sacrifice first.

"One more thing before you go." Victor's voice cut through the tension. "There's something you should see."

Serenity paused, the dossiers clutched against her chest. Victor gestured toward the massive screen occupying the far wall of the office. With a subtle nod to one of his subordinates, the lights dimmed automatically, and the screen flickered to life.

"Security footage from Beacon Tower, days ago." Victor's voice was clinically detached. "The night your father was killed."

A cold wave washed over Serenity as the high-definition footage revealed a luxury penthouse—her father's private sanctuary. She had never been there, but she recognized it instantly from photos she'd secretly collected over the years. The timestamp in the corner read 2:17 AM.

Her father, Marcus Vale, sat behind his desk, powerful even in his relaxed posture, reviewing documents with a crystal tumbler of amber liquid at his elbow. The room was all dark wood and leather, illuminated by soft recessed lighting. Two guards stood at the penthouse entrance, alert but relaxed.

Serenity's eyes fixed on the screen, unable to look away. Her pulse hammered in her throat. This was her father—alive—the closest she'd ever been to him in her adult life. The golden eyes she'd inherited were calculating even in his unguarded moment.

"Watch carefully," Victor murmured unnecessarily.

The camera angle switched to the hallway outside the penthouse as three men in tactical gear emerged from theservice elevator. The movement was so swift, so practiced—the guards never stood a chance. Silenced weapons, precision shots. No wasted motion.

A fourth figure emerged from the shadows behind the tactical team, directing them with hand signals. Though his face was partially obscured by the angle, Serenity felt her blood freeze in her veins.

No. It can't be.

The camera switched back to the penthouse interior. Marcus Vale rising from his desk, reaching for a weapon as the door burst open. His reactions were impressive for a man his age, but ultimately futile. Three shots. Center mass. Her father collapsed against his desk, papers scattering, blood blooming across his white shirt.

Serenity didn't realize she was holding her breath until her lungs began to burn. She forced herself to exhale slowly, fighting to keep her expression neutral even as her mind screamed.

The fourth man entered the frame, standing over Marcus Vale's body. He removed his tactical hood, and Serenity's world imploded.

Darius Castellano.

His distinctive gray eyes cold and assessing as he looked down at her dying father.

"You recognize him, I see." Victor's voice seemed to come from a great distance.

Serenity's Omega scent spiked with distress before she could control it. She fought to keep her voice steady. "The Castellano heir. Everyone in Detroit knows who he is."

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