Rose pov
The room was a cage, sterile walls pressing in, shadows draped like a shroud. A jazz record crackled faintly from some forgotten corner, too smooth for the tension that hung in the air. My wrists ached where the steel cuffs bit into my skin, but I sat straight, shoulders squared, chin lifted. No slouch, no weakness.
Let them think I was untouchable, even here. Especially here.
Asher King watched me from across the table, arms folded, his uniform crisp despite the chaos of the night. His eyes didn't waver. He was the sort of man who believed every riddle had a solution if you applied enough pressure. It would almost be charming if it weren't so tedious.
Bran lingered against the wall like a shadow given form, silent, alert. If Asher was the polished edge of law, Bran was the raw threat of violence. Two men, one room, and me — the woman they couldn't decide whether to fear, control, or break.
"Talk," Asher said at last, his voice clipped, sharp like a blade.
I let the silence stretch, savoring it, then smiled faintly. "About what? You've been circling the same questions for hours. I'm starting to think you enjoy the sound of your own voice."
His jaw tightened. "Because answers matter. The truth.."
"isn't free," I finished for him, tilting my head. "You should know that by now, Inspector King."
His name rolled off my tongue deliberately, and his eyes flickered, just briefly, at the challenge.
Before he could bite back, a tremor whispered through the floor. Subtle at first, almost like the subway beneath the city. But then it grew, heavier, sharper. Boots. Dozens of them, pounding in rhythm. The sound climbed up the legs of my chair, straight into my bones.
The alarms shrieked a heartbeat later.
Asher's hand went to his holster. Bran straightened, eyes narrowing toward the door.
"They're here," Bran muttered.
Of course they were.
"The Serpents," I breathed, the word laced with venom.
Asher shot me a sharp look. "Who?"
"They're not here for you," I said, voice smooth despite the pulse quickening in my veins. "They're here for me."
Gunfire cracked somewhere down the hall. The station lights flickered.
Asher's disbelief was palpable. "Why would another gang storm a police precinct for you?"
I met his gaze, cold, unflinching. "Because the Serpents aren't just any gang. They belong to Adrian."
The name was a knife I hadn't wanted to unsheathe.
"My cousin," I continued, voice low. "The one who was passed over. The one they didn't choose."
Asher frowned. "Didn't choose?"
"They chose me instead of him." My tone hardened. "My father named me heir to the Vipers, and Adrian never forgave it. He thinks the empire should've been his. He thinks I should've been his."
Asher's eyes flickered with shock, but I kept talking, words steady, deliberate. "This isn't about territory. It's personal. He wants to erase me and everything I represent so he can wear my crown and call me his prize. A double conquest."
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Only the alarms and gunfire kept it from swallowing us whole.
"You're telling me," Asher said slowly, "your cousin sent an army to storm a police station… just to take you?"
"Take is rather a big word Inspector" I gave him a humorless smile. "Family always cuts the deepest. And Adrian… Adrian has always wanted to watch me bleed."
The steel door down the hall shuddered with a deafening clang. Dust rained from the ceiling. Shouts erupted guttural commands, violent and eager. The Serpents were close, and they weren't subtle.
Bran finally stepped forward, the lazy mask stripped from his face. His voice was low, grave. "You wanted the truth, King? Here it is. She's not just some girl you can cage. She's the kind of woman men would burn a city for."
Asher's jaw flexed, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But he didn't lower his gun.
The next explosion blew the hallway lights, plunging the precinct into fractured darkness. Muzzle flashes strobed in the distance, each burst illuminating a slice of chaos.
And through it all, I sat shackled, smiling.
Because Adrian thought tonight would be the end of me. But if he'd forgotten who I was forgotten the blood in my veins, the fire that made the Vipers kneel then he'd made his first mistake.
I wasn't a pawn to be claimed.
I wasn't prey to be hunted.
I was Rose Varela. Heir of the Vipers.
And this city still belonged to me.