Chapter 4: Into The Den II
918 Words
We stopped before a set of heavy double doors, the noise from behind them a chaotic rumble of rough voices. My phone buzzed again: Thirty minutes. Don’t test me.
I showed them the screen. Jaxon’s jaw tightened. “Viktor can wait. The club comes first.”
The doors swung open, and the room fell into a sudden, heavy silence.
Thirty men clad in leather cuts turned as one. Their eyes—curious, suspicious, hungry—raked over me. This wasn't the controlled meeting from before; this was the heart of the Serpents, raw and dangerous. The air was thick with unchained energy.
“Well, well,” a lean man with eyes like chips of ice stepped forward, his smile a sharp, unfriendly thing. “The Commissioner’s daughter, slumming it with the peasants.”
A wave of low, menacing laughter followed.
“Enough,” Jaxon snapped, his voice cutting through the noise like a whip.
“Is it?” The man—Viper, I remembered—tilted his head. “Last I checked, we don’t exactly roll out the welcome wagon for cop’s kids.”
“You got a problem, Viper?” Ronan’s tone could have frozen hell.
“I got a problem with her putting a target on our backs for a little adventure.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, but Jaxon was already in Viper’s space, pure violence rolling off him. “Watch your mouth.”
“Or what? You’ll play knight for your new pet?” Viper’s grin widened. “Look at you. She’s already got you leashed, Beast.”
“The only one who’s going to be leashed,” Maddox said, his voice a low, dangerous purr, “is anyone who disrespects what’s ours.”
Ours. The word sent a thrilling, terrifying shiver down my spine.
“Does she belong to you three?” another voice called out. “Or is she just here until Daddy comes to collect his stray?”
The room was a minefield, testing my every flinch. I took a step forward, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I can speak for myself.”
Viper raised a mocking eyebrow. “Then speak, princess. Why is Commissioner Hart’s daughter in our house?”
I met his cold gaze head-on, summoning every bit of defiance that had led me to the Inferno. “The Vultures made this personal. They put their hands on me. They threatened to rape and kill me just to send you a message. So yeah, I’d say it’s my fight now.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd, but I pushed on.
“You think I’m a liability? Fine. Maybe I am. But I’m also a walking, talking ledger of every dirty deal my father’s ever buried, every case he’s ever twisted. I’m a weapon, and you’d be idiots not to use me.”
Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Viper’s eyes narrowed. “And when you’re done being useful? What then?”
“Then you’ll find out if you’re smart enough to keep a weapon this sharp.”
A gravelly laugh broke the tension. “Girl’s got spine,” a grizzled older member called out.
“More than some in this room,” another added, glaring pointedly at Viper.
The mood in the room shifted palpably—not to warmth, but to a grudging, calculating respect. I’d passed the first test.
“She stays,” a voice declared.
“Agreed,” another echoed.
Viper scanned the room, his jaw clenched tight. “This is a mistake.”
“Then it’s our mistake to make,” Ronan said, his voice cold and final.
“When this blows up in your faces,” Viper shot back, shoving past us, “don’t come crying to me.” His exit wasn’t one of hot anger, but of cold, simmering calculation. That felt far more dangerous.
“Well,” Maddox said, sidling up to me with a grin, “that was entertaining.”
“Is it always like that?” I asked, my adrenaline only now beginning to ebb.
“Only on days that end with ‘y’,” a Serpent called out, earning a few genuine chuckles.
Jaxon clapped a hand on my shoulder, the weight of it solid and reassuring. “You held your ground. That’s all that matters. Anyone has a problem with you, they answer to us.”
No one challenged him. The crowd began to disperse, a few men nodding at me with a newfound, if reluctant, respect.
“Not bad,” Ronan remarked. “But next time, less explanation, more edge. Try: ‘I’m proof of every crime my father buried. A weapon you’d be fools to waste.’”
A smirk tugged at my lips. “Noted.”
“Now what?” I asked, looking between the three of them.
“Now,” Jaxon said, his voice dropping to a low, intent rumble, “we make sure you can survive in this world.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you learn to fight.” His eyes glinted with something that wasn’t just protectiveness—it was anticipation.
He grabbed my wrist, his grip firm but not painful, and pulled me toward a side door. “Let’s see if you can back up that fire with actual fight.”
My pulse kicked into a gallop as he led me toward the gym, the air already thick with the scent of sweat and steel.
I’d made my choice. Now I had to become someone who could live with it
- Writer
