As soon as Tiffany stepped inside the mansion, she felt something was off. The usual controlled calm of her family’s home had been replaced by tension so thick it felt like a storm cloud hovering above.
She strode inside, her senses on high alert. The air smelled faintly of copper. She didn’t have to go far to find the source.
The main dining hall, usually reserved for family meetings or quiet dinners, had been transformed into a war room. Men and women in dark suits flanked the walls, their expressions grim.
In the center of the room, sprawled across the pristine white tablecloth, was a chilling sight. A blood red message: “We see you, Red Vipers. The Black Serpents strike soon.”
Tiffany’s father, River, stood at the head of the table, his imposing figure radiating authority. Despite
