Page 93 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

She groaned, shoving him off with a mix of exasperation and amusement. It was almost impossible to stay irritated, especially when Ronan chimed in with a taunt, "Why don’t we eat breakfast before we start wars?"

Reluctantly charmed, Serenity followed them and took a seat at the table, the sporadic harmony of their morning routine taking her by surprise. It was an easy back and forth, their banter light yet unexpectedly genuine. While she half-expected talk of mob wars and power plays, she found herself immersed in the kind of simple, meaningful exchanges that she’d never dreamed she’d be a part of.

As they ate, Darius glanced at her, his tone as decisive as ever. "I want to take you shopping," he declared. The room wentsilent, not just because of the proposition itself but because it was so uncharacteristically direct coming from him. Serenity was floored, but not nearly as much as Lucian and Ronan, who instantly seized the opportunity to pounce with teasing jabs.

"New territory for you, isn't it?" Lucian needled, looking far too amused for Darius's taste.

"Someone's getting pretty domesticated," Ronan added, the mockery in his voice one step shy of a full-on laugh.

Unfazed but unwilling to fuel their taunting, Darius stood up with his usual efficiency. "I'll get ready," he stated, rising to his feet. "Meanwhile, you two are on dish duty." His attempt at delegation was met with twin groans of protest, echoing their disinterest in any kind of menial task.

"Are you kidding me with this shit?" Ronan grumbled, clearly unenthusiastic about the assignment.

Lucian shot Darius a sidelong glance, still smirking. "I knew it," he said, acting as though he'd discovered some great secret. "You're getting soft on us."

Serenity couldn't help it; a giggle escaped her lips, surprising even herself. All eyes turned to her, catching the rare, unguarded moment, and she found herself admitting something she hadn’t allowed herself to even consider until now. "I’ve never experienced pack dynamics that feel so... casual and pure," she confessed, a thread of sincerity weaving through her words. It was an acknowledgment of sorts, one that resonated with more honesty than she planned to let slip. "Thank you for letting me be a part of this," she added, softer this time. "Even if it’s temporary and all."

Her words seemed to floor them, leaving a stunned silence that she took as her cue to continue. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to reveal, but something pushed her onward, as if this was a moment that required full exposure. "Before my Dad’s passing," she started, each word dragging a piece of her guardedpast into the open, "I never really knew what it's like to have a normal Omega lifestyle." It was an admission that she hadn’t even allowed herself to articulate, an unveiling of vulnerabilities that she’d long hidden behind indifference and cynicism. "I’ve always disdained myself for being an Omega," she continued, each sentence a new level of exposure, "affected by hormonal nonsense that the world belittles. The circumstances have been crazy, but having three Alphas around through all the chaos has been a blessing I didn’t expect. I’m thankful for it—even if I don't want to be."

The admission hung in the air, as raw and unflinching as the emotions they reflected. She could see the impact it had on them, each man wrestling with his own reaction to her candor. The attention was almost too much to bear, but she forced herself to meet their eyes.

"I'll go with you," she said to Darius, accepting his offer with a nod that was more than an agreement to go shopping. "I might as well see what this whole Omega life thing is all about." It was her way of acknowledging that she didn't know as much about herself as she thought, that perhaps she’d been a little too quick to dismiss the value of what they were offering.

She left them with that, spinning on her heel to give herself a minute away from the overwhelming intensity of their combined attention.

18

RETAIL THERAPY

~SERENITY~

The sleek black car sliced through the city traffic, coming to a stop at the curb of Manhattan's most exclusive shopping district.

The driver opened the door, and Darius Castellano emerged first—a dark silhouette against the sunlight, his imposing six-foot-four frame casting a shadow that seemed to command even the sidewalk beneath him.

Serenity Vale stepped out after him, squinting against the midday glare. Fifth Avenue hummed with the kinetic energy of wealth and power—her new world, though it still felt like borrowed clothing that didn't quite fit.

"Shall we?" Darius extended his arm, his gray eyes glinting with that familiar predatory amusement. His custom Tom Ford suit moved with him like a second skin, not a thread out of place despite the summer heat.

Serenity slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, feeling the solid muscle beneath. "Remember, we need to swing by Vale Enterprise's downtown office. Elena messaged that the quarterly reports I requested are ready for pickup."

"All business today?" His voice carried that low rumble that seemed designed to vibrate through her chest. "And here I thought we were just enjoying a lovers' stroll."

"You don't do anything without multiple purposes, Castellano." She matched his stride as they merged into the flow of pedestrians. "I've learned that much about you."

The crowd parted for them—no, for him—like water around a boulder. Serenity watched it happen, the subtle dance of avoidance and deference. Pedestrians glanced up, caught sight of Darius, and instinctively stepped aside. Most didn't even realize they were doing it.

Primal recognition, she thought. Every person on the sidewalk, consciously or not, recognized the Prime Alpha in their midst.

"The files," she reminded herself silently. Focus on the files, the business, the empire you've inherited. Not on him. Not on the way his scent wraps around you like a promise.

A group of tourists jostled past, forcing her closer against Darius's side. The contact sent an unwelcome flush of heat across her skin.

"You seem distracted," he observed, his thumb tracing a small circle against her hand.

"I'm strategizing," she replied, pulling her professional mask firmly back in place. "The Vale shipping manifests might reveal which of my father's associates have been skimming profits. Elena suspects?—"

"That it's someone in the Miami operation," he finished. "Yes, you mentioned. But your pulse is racing, little Omega. And not from thoughts of corporate espionage."

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