Page 9 of Knot So Sweet (Leather and Lace #1)
Chapter 8
Candi
A s I pushed through the heavy door of the Steel Serpents clubhouse, the rich, smoky scent of the bar hit me immediately. The ambient noise of raucous laughter, clinking glasses, 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.
"I said, let me the fuck go," I repeated, my voice cold, steady, dripping with a threat I knew he could feel. My gaze told him I meant it—every word.
The alpha’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening even more. "You’ve got some nerve, walking in here like you own the place," he spat, his hot breath hitting my face. "The only thing a little omega slut like you is good for is a warm hole for a knot. Remember your place."
I gritted my teeth, biting back the retort that danced on my tongue. Pain radiated up my arm where his fingers squeezed, but I refused to let him intimidate me.
"I’m here to see Viper," I bit out, venom lacing each syllable. "And unless you want a fucking problem, you’ll let me go right now."
A smirk twisted his lips, amusement flickering in his eyes as if he found my defiance funny. "What are you gonna do about it? Viper's not here to save your pretty little ass from me." His meaty hand slid down my curves, fingers digging into my ass. His scent, heavy and thick with dominance, clung to my skin like tar, suffocating me.
"You come into my club, dressed like this? Wearing a little leather collar too?" he groaned, his breath hot and vile against my ear. "You want to be owned, don’t you, little omega? I bet you’ve never even been fucked properly before."
My stomach churned with disgust. First Benson had put his hands on me, and now this prick. Viper trusted him as his second? Disappointment gnawed at me, mingling with the injustice swirling inside.
Without giving it a second thought, I slammed the heel of my palm upward. A satisfying crunch rang out, and the sharp tang of blood hit the air. I inhaled it greedily, watching with a savage sense of satisfaction as blood gushed from his nose, dripping down his chin and soaking the front of his pristine white T-shirt.
A wicked grin tugged at my painted-black lips as the Steel Serpents’ VP staggered back, clutching his shattered nose with his free hand. His green eyes, once so full of cocky disdain, now blazed with shock and fury. Blood oozed between his fingers, dripping onto the floor in thick droplets. He tried to glare at me, but it was hard to look threatening when you were bleeding all over yourself.
"I’ll kill you for that," he snarled, his voice thick, and garbled with rage. His grip loosened, and I yanked my arm free, rubbing at the sore spot where his fingers had dug in.
"Try me," I hissed, wiping the back of my hand on my jeans, like his touch had somehow tainted me. "You’ll wish you hadn’t."
The room had gone eerily quiet, the hum of whispers rising from the crowd as they watched with sharp interest. Serpents thrived on this—violence, dominance, power plays. They lived to see who’d come out on top in moments like this. But I wasn’t here to play their games.
I was here for one reason.
To secure The Den.
I stepped back, bracing myself as the alpha stumbled toward me again, fury boiling in his eyes. His ego had clearly taken a hit, and his instinct was to fight back—to show me, an omega, my place. Too bad for him, I wasn’t the kind of omega to back down.
Before he could lunge at me again, a sharp voice sliced through the tense air like a blade. "Gears, back off. She's with me." I turned toward the sound, my heart still thudding in my chest. Pixie stood at the entrance, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed in warning. "You wouldn't want Viper to know you put your hands on his omega, would you?"
His ? I bristled at that.
I was no one's goddamn anything.
I bit down on my inner cheek, copper filling my mouth and the pain grounding me. I forced my teeth to remain locked together. Anything to stop myself from telling Pixie just where to shove it.
Gears hesitated, his eyes darting between me and Pixie, before he finally let out a low growl of frustration. "You better watch yourself, little omega," he spat.
His threat settled deep in my gut, creating a coiling tension that wouldn't let go. I had a knack for getting into trouble, and smashing the VP's nose was no exception apparently. As much as I hated handsy alphas, I hated being threatened even more.
I lifted my chin, locking eyes with him. "Your nose looks broken, Gears," I spat his name the same way he called me omega—like he wasn’t worth shit. Because let’s be honest, he wasn’t.
His face reddened with fury, and I smirked in satisfaction. "Might want to get that checked out before it sets," I whispered, my voice low and devious.
I knew poking the bear wouldn’t help me, but I was beyond caring. I was sick of men telling me my place. I decided my place—not Gears, not Adam or Benson. Not even Viper.
Gears loomed over me, his fist raised, contemplating striking me. My heart hammered in my chest, but I didn’t flinch, instead staring him down.
"I said, back. The fuck. Off, Gears."
Pixie’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. He stepped forward, his gaze hard as he stared down his VP. His demeanor was a stark contrast to the teasing alpha I’d met just a few weeks ago. The two alphas squared off, tension thick in the air. But eventually, Gears’ chest deflated, the fight seeping out of him.
Interesting. He was the VP of this little club, and yet the tech genius could get him to back down. Why?
"This isn’t over, bitch," Gears growled at me, but I just smiled, letting the darkness seep into my stance. He threw me one last scathing look before stepping back, muttering under his breath as he stalked off, disappearing into the smoky haze of the bar.