Page 81 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

"I'm not a guest," Serenity said coolly, stepping past him. "Apparently, I'm a resident."

Her words died on her lips as she took in Darius's personal space. Where Lucian's wing had been a testament to rigid control, Darius's domain was a fascinating contradiction. The architecture and foundational design elements were exquisite—soaring ceilings with crown molding, custom built-ins, and carefully positioned lighting that highlighted museum-quality art pieces. But layered over this framework of deliberate luxury was... chaos.

Papers covered nearly every flat surface, some in neat stacks, others scattered as if by a sudden wind. Three different tablets displayed scrolling data. A massive abstract painting dominated one wall, vibrant splashes of color that seemed to capture the energy of the room. Designer furniture sat at careful angles, but throw pillows were tossed haphazardly, and several mugs of what appeared to be abandoned coffee perched precariously on stacks of books.

"I... apologize for the disorder," Darius said stiffly. "Had I known you were coming today?—"

"You'd have hidden all evidence that you actually live here?" Serenity finished for him, unable to keep a small smile fromtugging at her lips. Something about seeing the impeccably controlled crime heir surrounded by disarray struck her as unexpectedly humanizing.

"I would have had the cleaning staff in," he corrected, straightening a stack of papers on a nearby end table.

Serenity moved deeper into the space, drawn to a collection of framed architectural drawings. "These are extraordinary. Are they yours?"

A flash of genuine pleasure crossed Darius's face before he masked it. "Yes. Interior design is... a hobby."

"A passion, more like," Lucian drawled, picking up a leather-bound sketchbook and flipping through it with familiar ease. "Our Darius here could have been a world-renowned designer if he hadn't been born to run a criminal empire."

Darius snatched the book from Lucian's hands. "Those are private."

"Nothing's private when you leave it lying about," Lucian countered.

Serenity watched the interaction with interest. The dynamic between these two powerful alphas was complex—competitive yet familiar, with an underlying current of grudging respect.

"I find it rather refreshing," she said, running her fingertip along the edge of an antique desk piled with blueprints. "To see evidence of actual work happening rather than a sterile showcase."

Darius's expression softened slightly. "You should have seen it yesterday. This is actually... tidy."

Lucian barked a laugh. "Tidy? There's a coffee mug balancing on your first edition Hemingway."

"Fuck," Darius muttered, moving quickly to rescue the book. "This is precisely why I don't like unexpected visitors." He glared at Lucian. "You could have called ahead."

"And given you time to present another perfect facade? Where's the fun in that?" Lucian's amber eyes gleamed with mischief. "Besides, Ms. Vale here deserves to know who she's really dealing with."

Serenity moved toward a large drafting table where detailed plans for what appeared to be a luxury hotel lay partially covered by financial spreadsheets. "I assume this is a legitimate business venture?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Darius stepped closer, his scent—spiced cedar and something darker, more primal—enveloping her. "The Castellano portfolio includes numerous legitimate enterprises. This boutique hotel chain is my personal project."

"He means it's his baby," Lucian interjected. "The one place he doesn't have to answer to the family council."

Serenity turned to study Darius's face, noting the passion that animated his features when he looked at the plans. "So the fearsome Castellano heir has a creative side. I wouldn't have guessed."

"There's quite a lot you don't know about me, Ms. Vale," Darius replied, his voice dropping to a register that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

This is dangerous territory, she thought. The awareness of him as an alpha—powerful, dominant, yet unexpectedly complex—was becoming harder to ignore. His scent called to her omega instincts in ways she'd been trained to resist.

"I should have the maids clear this up," Darius said abruptly, moving away from her to straighten a pile of magazines. "This is unacceptable."

"Don't you dare," Lucian said. "Last time you let the cleaning staff into your wing, you were impossible to live with for a week. 'They moved my sketches,' 'They reorganized my reference materials,'" he mimicked Darius's deeper voice with surprising accuracy.

"I have a system," Darius growled, clearly embarrassed.

"A system of controlled chaos," Lucian countered. "I wouldn't let the maids touch my things either, even if it meant life or death, but at least I admit it."

Serenity couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. "You're both ridiculous. Alpha billionaires afraid of the cleaning staff."

The sound of her laughter seemed to catch both men off guard. They stared at her for a moment before Darius's lips curved into a reluctant smile.

"My creative process requires... specificity," he said, defensive yet somehow warmer than before.

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