Page 17 of Knot So Sweet

Maybe Benson was right. Maybe I was losing myself in all this. But if I didn’t make moves, if I didn’t take control of the situation, I risked losing more than just my identity—I risked losing everything I had built.

As I reached my car, the decision solidified in my mind. I was definitely going to the clubhouse tonight. Better to face the devil you know head on, right? And if I waited too long, I might lose the nerve to confront what I'd been running from. I wasn’t the kind of woman who backed down, even when the challenge ahead was a dangerous one. Even when that challenge came in the form of two alphas who threatened to unravel everything I’d fought to protect.

With a deep breath, I slid into the driver’s seat, the leather cool against my skin, and started the engine. The car roared to life beneath me, but the hollow feeling in my chest didn’t dissipate. I pressed down on the gas, the city blurring around me as I made my way toward the clubhouse.

Whatever happened next, I had to remember one thing—I was in control. No matter what Viper or Ghost wanted from me, no matter how much my body betrayed me when they were near, this wasmylife.

And I wouldn’t let anyone take that from me.

Chapter 8

Candi

As I pushed throughthe heavy door of the Steel Serpents clubhouse, the rich, smoky scent of the bar hit me immediately. The ambient noise of raucous laughter, clinkingglasses, and low murmurs of conversation enveloped me. But it was the sight of the men scattered around the room that immediately caught my attention. Most of them were alphas. Well except the bartender, who was a beta.

My heart hammered in my chest, but I forced out a long breath, holding my head high and scanning the crowd for a familiar face. But none of them were here, and I quickly realized I was on my own in this den of Vipers.

Vipers. I snorted a laugh.

Now I get why they're called the Steel Serpents. Was that why they called their president Viper?

I briefly wondered if Viper’s real name was just as sharp and elusive as his road name, but quickly pushed the thought out of my head. It didn’t matter. I had a mission and didn't need the distraction. I needed the Den secure for my heat. And I wasn’t leaving until Viper agreed to set up security.

They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. But honestly? I never really liked lemonade. It’s too tart, too acidic—never quite satisfying.

Now, chocolate?

I fucking loved chocolate. Sweet, rich, melting on my tongue, it was everything lemonade wasn’t. Plus, when I was feeling sour, I didn’t want to sweeten things up. I wanted to channel that bitterness into something more satisfying, like imagining myself punching someone square in the face.

That’s why I always say, "If life gives you lemons, punch it in the face and demand chocolate."

Screw turning something sour into something just tolerable. I wanted satisfaction, indulgence. I wanted the good stuff, not some half-assed compromise.

Life had a way of trying to hand me the short end of the stick, but I wasn’t going to sip on sour lemonade like a good little girl.

No, I was going to make sure life handed over something worth having. Because nothing was more satisfying than taking control and getting exactly what I deserved.

As I navigated through the smoky haze and the low murmur of voices, a hand gripped my arm tightly, yanking me to a halt. Pain shot up my arm, and I hissed, my gaze snapping up to meet a pair of green eyes, hard as stone and filled with disdain.

Instinctively, I reached for my pocket knife, but the pit in my stomach dropped as the realization hit. I didn’t bring it. Damn it. What the hell had I been thinking, coming here unarmed?

I hadn’t been thinking, and that was a mistake I wouldn’t make again.Ever.

I tugged on my arm, attempting to free myself from his grasp, but the alpha only tightened his hold. "Let. Me. The fuck. Go," I growled, glaring up at the piece of shit who had the audacity to lay hands on me.

His nostrils flared as he studied me, his lips curling into a sneer. "What’re you doing here, little omega?" His voice was rough, carrying that sharp edge that screamed arrogance. The way he spat out the word "omega" felt like a slap—meant as an insult, meant to remind me of my place.

Like I was beneath him.

His breath reeked of alcohol, and that pungent musk alphas seemed to ooze, stung my nose and deepened the instant rage burning in my chest. Alphas like him—entitled, arrogant—thought they could do whatever they wanted. The way his nails dug into my flesh made it crystal clear he didn’t give a damn if he hurt me.

Piece of shit.

His cut had the Serpent logo stitched into the leather, and below it, a patch that read Vice President. Oh, this alphahole was Viper’s second-in-command?

What the actual fuck?

Now, that little nugget of information made my vision go red.

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