Page 119 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

"Sure you did," Darius laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "That's why you look like you went ten rounds with a cement mixer."

Serenity watched their banter, feeling something settle within her. These men—dangerous, volatile, impossiblyarrogant—had somehow become her anchor in a storm. The thought should have frightened her, this dependency on Alphas when she'd spent her entire life fighting to be independent despite her Omega biology.

"We need to talk about next steps," she said, her voice taking on the crisp, professional tone she used in business meetings. "My father's enemies are closing in, and we can't hide out in this bedroom forever."

"Speak for yourself," Lucian smirked. "I could stay right here indefinitely."

"Focus," she admonished, but couldn't help the small smile that formed. "The Vale Empire needs leadership—strong, visible leadership. If I stay hidden, it looks like weakness."

"It's not weakness to be strategic," Darius countered. "Your father built his empire over decades. You've had it for days."

"And that's exactly why I need to make a statement," Serenity insisted, her golden eyes flashing with determination. "I'm tired of running, tired of being underestimated because I'm an Omega."

The room fell silent as the three Alphas exchanged glances.

"Whatever you decide," Ronan said finally, his voice uncharacteristically serious, "we're with you. All of us."

Serenity felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with belonging. For the first time since learning of her inheritance, the weight of it didn't feel crushing—because she wasn't carrying it alone.

"Then it's settled," she said, straightening her shoulders. "Tomorrow, we start taking back what's mine."

As she looked at each of them—Ronan with his battered but unbroken spirit, Lucian with his dangerous charm, Darius with his calculating intelligence—she knew that whatever came next, they would face it together.

The path ahead was fraught with peril, alliances yet untested, and enemies circling like sharks. But for this moment, in this room, Serenity Vale had found her pack.

And an Omega with loyal Alphas was anything but weak.

23

BROKEN LEGACIES

~SERENITY~

The living room felt cavernous in the soft lamplight.

Serenity sank deeper into the plush leather sofa, her golden eyes fixed on Ronan as he sat across from her, broad shoulders tense beneath his tailored shirt. The bruises from the earlier fight were darkening around his jaw, but the vulnerability in his expression was what truly caught her attention.

Ronan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Your father and I weren't just business associates," he said, voice low and graveled. "Marcus Vale saved my life when I was nineteen."

Serenity's pulse quickened. "Saved you how?"

"I was running small-time cons, thought I was untouchable until I scammed the wrong people." Ronan's green eyes darkened with memory. "Marcus found me bleeding out in an alley behind one of his clubs. Instead of finishing the job, he offered me a choice—die there or work for him."

Darius made a sound somewhere between a scoff and appreciation as he paced behind the sofa. "Vale always did have an eye for talent in the gutter."

"Fuck you very much, Castellano," Ronan replied without heat, his attention never leaving Serenity's face. "Your fathertaught me everything—how to build legitimate fronts, how to move product without detection, how to make the right people fear you."

My father, the criminal mentor.The inheritance waiting for her felt suddenly heavier around her shoulders.

"The Society never approved of our arrangement," Ronan continued. "Said I was an outsider, unworthy of Vale's protection. When Marcus disappeared, they saw their chance."

Lucian, who had been silently observing from his position near the window, stepped forward. "They've tried to take him out twice since that fight at the club. Once while Serenity was patching him up—that noise outside wasn't the neighbor's cat."

Serenity's stomach dropped. "What?"

"And again this morning during breakfast." Lucian's expression remained unnervingly placid. "That delivery guy who came to the wrong address? Wasn't lost—was packing a Glock under those Chinese takeout containers."

"Jesus Christ." Serenity's mind flashed to that morning—how casually Lucian had stepped outside to "direct" the delivery person, returning minutes later without comment. "And you were going to mention this when?"

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