Dangers in my Heart

Chapter 1

The news of my father's death didn't just hit me—it consumed me, piece by piece. The ache in my chest felt endless, and the questions clawed at my sanity. Who would kill him? And why? My father was a businessman, not some underworld kingpin. Sure, we lived in a city where gang wars painted the streets red, but he wasn't part of that world. Was he?

For weeks, I retraced every step he had taken before his death, digging through his records and re-reading old files. Nothing stood out. It was maddening. My father dealt in real estate, respectable work. His clients were wealthy, his transactions clean. At least, that's what I had always believed.

Now, all I had left was his legacy—and the burden of continuing his work. A business I never wanted, in a city I could never love. The streets here felt suffocating, the air heavy with unspoken threats. But this city was my father's kingdom, and it held the answers I was desperate to find.

I sat in a corner booth of a small café, the smell of roasted coffee doing little to comfort me. My untouched cup sat in front of me, the steam curling into the dim light. I stared blankly at it, drowning in my thoughts. My mind raced, jumping from possibility to possibility, each darker than the last.

What if he had gotten tangled with the wrong people? What if his business wasn't as clean as I thought? What if someone was trying to send a message—to him, to me?

I didn't realize how long I had been sitting there until a loud, angry voice snapped me out of my trance.

"Are you deaf, girl? I said you didn't give me the right change!"

A man in his mid-thirties was yelling at the young barista behind the counter. His voice was harsh, dripping with disdain. The poor girl looked frozen, her hands clutching the counter as if it was the only thing keeping her upright.

"I-I gave you the right amount," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

"Don't lie to me!" he barked, slamming his hand on the counter.

I watched, unable to ignore the growing tension. Everyone else in the café avoided looking at him, their heads buried in their phones or cups. The barista looked on the verge of tears.

I stood up before I could stop myself. "Sir, will you please calm down?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He turned to me, his eyes filled with fury. "Shut up, bitch! This has nothing to do with you!"

The venom in his voice was shocking, but I stood my ground.

"She's telling the truth," I said, glancing at the barista. Her expression told me everything—I knew she hadn't cheated him.

The man sneered, stepping closer to me. "She owes me my twenty dollars."

I reached for my wallet, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill. "Here," I said, handing it to him. "Now leave her alone."

He snatched the money out of my hand, muttering curses under his breath. I thought that was the end of it.

And then the man went flying through the glass door.

The café fell silent, the shattering glass echoing in the air. My heart pounded as I turned to see what had just happened.

A woman stood where the man had been. She was tall, dressed in black, her posture commanding. Her face was stoic, unreadable. She walked over to the man's unconscious body and knelt down, her movements calm and deliberate. She reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of cash, and walked back toward me.

"Here," she said, handing me the twenty dollars. Her voice was low, steady, and chillingly calm. "I saw the whole thing. He deserved it."

I stared at her, speechless. She turned to one of the men standing by the door—a burly figure who looked like he could snap someone in half without breaking a sweat. "Take him out, Seth," she said.

Without a word, Seth dragged the man's limp body out of the café.

The woman turned back to the barista, her tone softening slightly. "If he comes back, call me, okay, Bri?"

The barista nodded, relief washing over her face. "Thank you, Lisa."

Lisa.

The name sent a chill down my spine. As the woman turned, I saw it—the tattoo on her arm. A coiled snake, its sharp fangs glinting in the dim light.

This wasn't just any woman. This was Lisa Manoban, the leader of the Red Serpents.

The infamous snake of the city.