Page 8 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

The corners of his mouth tightened almost imperceptibly. "Nothing, apparently."

She checked her reflection in the mirror, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. If she didn't look too closely at the redness of her lips or the marks blooming on her neck, she could almost pretend this hadn't happened. Again.

"Same time next week?" he asked, his casual tone belied by the intensity of his stare.

Serenity paused, hand on the doorknob. "I'll be in Tokyo."

"The week after, then."

She didn't answer, didn't turn. Couldn't bear to see the certainty in his expression—the knowledge that despite her protestations, despite her independence, she would return. They both knew it.

The door closed behind her with a soft click, severing the connection until next time.

Until the inevitable.

Serenity's phone vibrated in her clutch as she strode toward the elevator. She fished it out, expecting a message from her assistant about tomorrow's portfolio review. Instead, an unknown number flashed on the screen with a message that made her freeze mid-step.

"Your father needs you. Come now."

She stared at the text, her golden eyes narrowing. Her father? Marcus Vale had been dead for three months—his funeral had been the first time she'd ever seen the man who'd sired her then abandoned her mother. The inheritance of his empire had been an unwelcome surprise, like finding a viper in her bed.

"Wrong number," she muttered, thumb hovering over the delete button.

The phone vibrated again. Same number: "This is not a mistake, Serenity. He's asking for you specifically."

A chill crawled up her spine. She glanced back at the penthouse door, briefly considering returning to show Darius the message. The thought evaporated as quickly as it formed. Their arrangement didn't include sharing personal concerns.

"Whoever you are," she typed swiftly, "my father is dead. Find someone else to scam."

She dropped the phone back into her clutch with a decisive snap and jabbed the elevator button.

2

IT ALL COMES TUMBLING DOWN

~DARIUS~

From the doorway of the penthouse, Darius watched Serenity's retreating form, noting the way her shoulders tensed as she checked her phone.

Something had disturbed her composure—a rare occurrence for a woman who maintained control with the precision of a military strategist.

The vibration of his own phone pulled his attention away. He glanced at the caller ID and immediately straightened, the casual posture of a satisfied lover replaced by the rigid stance of the Castellano heir.

"Report," he answered, voice dropping an octave.

As he listened, his gray eyes darkened to the color of storm clouds. His free hand clenched at his side, knuckles whitening.

"Where?" he demanded, moving to the window to watch Serenity enter the elevator below. The doors closed on her face, still frowning at her phone. "And you're certain of the timeline?"

The answer from the other end made his jaw tighten, a muscle ticking in his cheek.

"Keep me updated. No one moves without my authorization." He ended the call, staring at the now-empty lobby where Serenity had stood moments before.

Something fundamental had shifted in the last five minutes. The careful chess game he'd been playing—keeping Serenity close while maintaining the necessary distance—was about to become infinitely more complicated.

His reflection in the glass stared back at him, the mask of control firmly in place, but beneath it, calculations raced. Serenity Vale, in her stubborn independence, had no idea what forces were now in motion—forces that would make their volatile relationship look like child's play in comparison.

"It's done. Vale is dead," Darius confirmed into the phone, his voice hollow against the emptiness of the penthouse suite. "Make it look like cardiac arrest. No trace."

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