Chapter 1Serpent Sisters: Faking Death to Escape the Billionaire Twins

Rumor had it that Manhattan’s most elusive billionaire heir had the stamina of an absolute god. My sister and I decided to take turns being his girlfriend, cultivating our magic by absorbing his excess vitality through physical intimacy.

One day, this gorgeous heir asked my sister:

"What are snakes most afraid of? Arsenic or sulfur?"

I thought our cover was blown. I immediately packed our bags, faked our deaths that very night, and dragged my sister running back to the deep woods where we belong.

In the middle of the night, from my fresh grave, I smelled the heavenly scent of fried chicken. I popped my head out of the dirt for a bite.

Behind me, two cold chuckles rang out.

I turned to see two identical, impossibly handsome men staring down at me, their gazes icy.

One said, "Bro, which one is this? I honestly can't tell them apart."

The other smirked and said, "That one is mine. Just last night, she told me that when she died, I better leave an entire Popeyes family meal combo on her grave."

* * *

My name is Tessa.

Half a year ago, my sister Sienna and I realized our magical cultivation was too weak to maintain our human forms for long periods.

So, we hunted down a high-quality human male—Weston Sinclair, the golden boy of New York high society—to dual-cultivate with and boost our magic.

Mon-Wed-Fri: I cultivated with him.

Tue-Thu-Sat: Sienna did.

Sundays were Weston's days off. We would feed him raw oyster shooters, maca root, and premium protein smoothies to help him recharge.

To avoid blowing our cover, we used a shared fake name around him: Tessie.

I have to admit.

Weston was truly built different.

Unlike traditional men who needed a cooldown period, he was ready to go all day, every day.

Him!

I’d use him in the morning! My sister would use him in the afternoon! I’d use him again before dinner, and my sister would take the night shift!

One man doing the work of four.

And, he was incredibly generous.

If Sienna or I lingered our gaze on a designer bag for even a second, or casually mentioned liking something...

By the next morning, it would be delivered to our penthouse.

In just six months, our bank account balance had hit eight figures.

We had so many luxury goods we didn't know what to do with them.

Cartier bracelets, solid gold bangles... they were practically spilling out of our closets.

Sometimes, when Weston wasn't around, I’d turn back into my snake form.

I'd slither right through them.

Playing ring toss.

Wearing ten diamond bracelets at once, looking absolutely fabulous.

I made Sienna take pictures and post them on my Instagram Close Friends story.

The other wild snakes were dying of jealousy:

[Tessa! Who's your sugar daddy?! You’re living the absolute dream!]

Of course, Weston was blocked from seeing those stories.