Page 1 of Serpentine

ONE

AELLA

The Woodland Diner is on the corner of Main Street, and its outward-facing glass windows allow its customers to look out at downtown Twin Pines, Oregon. Charlotte is late, as always, but she’s usually not this late.

“Still waiting for your guest?” the server asks for the fourth time.

I sigh and shake my head. “No, I don’t think she’s coming. I’m going to call it.”

“Sure you don’t want to order?”

I hand her over a twenty, more than enough to cover the one glass of wine I’d been nursing. “Keep the change.”

She smiles with a bit of sadness, warping her mouth and nodding her thanks. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

After downing my wine, I look around. It’s not your typical old, smelly diner. The new owner had redone it. It has a rustic feel, dim lighting, and a fantastic wine list. Farm-to-table became big in our area a while back, and the new owner capitalized on it and has done well for himself.

I check my phone and see Charlotte hasn’t said a damn thing to me. Scowling, I shove it back into my red Birkin bag. As I head into the cool night air, my heels click on the wooden floors. We’re transitioning into summer, but we’re not there yet. Today’s high had been a chilly seventy-one.

The wind blows, rain stinging against my face, and I tighten my shawl around me. My Lexus lights up as I hit the fob, stepping off the curb to get into it. It had been a present from Carter after I said yes to his marriage proposal.

The leather is cold when I slide inside and set my bag on the passenger seat. I take a deep breath.

Charlotte is my only remaining friend from school, and sometimes I wonder why I give her the time of day. She made these plans, and yet if something came up she found more interesting, it would be nothing for her to ghost me.

The engine hums to life, and I take a moment to gather myself and let the anger fuel me as I head to Carter’s house. Our house. I just moved in with him. We need to make things between us look more believable to the media.

Our marriage has been in place for as long as I can remember. My father, being the conglomerate he was, and Carter, the hungry son of a billionaire looking to make a name for himself, meant merging the two names would be great for business.

Don’t get me wrong, I think eventually something could grow from our arrangement. Despite being arranged, my parents were utterly infatuated with each other.

Our two-story house, perched in a gated community, isn’t far from downtown. It’s not the area I’d have chosen, but I rarely get a say. You’d think I’d be used to it because my father has always controlled everything in my life, but I’m not.

Recently, I just wanted to run away from it all, but Aella Montague, daughter of Walter Montague, can’t have those thoughts. I can’t show weakness.

I narrow my eyes at the dark house when I park beside the curb. He’s home. His Bentley is in the middle of the drive, leaving no room for my car.

I roll my eyes and turn the engine off, grabbing my bag and phone before exiting into the windy night. The stars above twinkle brightly, but there’s none of the rugged, overgrown Oregon I love around. Not near the bougie neighborhood where Carter preferred we live.

My heels click through the night as I go up to the house, using my key to let myself in.

As I turn to the table in the entryway, ready to set my things down, a moan rings out through the house. It filters down the steps, jaggedly rubbing against my rapidly beating pulse.

“Carter! Fuck!”

I close my eyes as I drop my things.

Of course, I knew he had to be getting fucked somewhere, but in our brand-new house?

Removing my shoes, I silently make my way up the stairs, plan not formed as I tiptoe toward his bedroom door. Mine is right next door. Part of me wonders if he knew I was out before he let his guest in. Did he know right where I was, and that’s why she’s here?

His door is wide open, and she straddles him, naked, with her head thrown back in ecstasy.

Something in my belly clenches and rolls with nausea as I look at the profile of my best friend as she moans my fiancé’s name again.

“Charlotte?”

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