Page 70 of Hard Knot

“Let me see what I can find in that uninhabited place you call a kitchen,” she continues, her voice dripping with mockery.

She pauses, and I wonder what she’s going to say.

“Oh, and by the way?” I can tell from her shift of tone she’s directing the next set of words to Victoria. “Your design and decorating skills suck balls. But keep bribing judges with dirt money to get your next award for best interior designer. I’ll whip this place up so it looks like a home.”

Is she actually being serious?

Victoria stammers, clearly taken aback.

“You’re not even the Omega of this place!”

A hum of amusement escapes Elizabeth in response.

“I’m the queen of this castle,” she declares, her voice rich with self-assured arrogance. “And there’s nothing your petty ass can do to stop me from claiming what’s mine. But please, do try. I love a bit of competition.”

There’s a softsmacksound that I can only assume is her pressing her fingers to her lips and blowing an infuriatingly teasing kiss.

“And Holmes,” she says, her tone suddenly lighter, “I’m keeping your tie as a souvenir. Actions have consequences, after all.”

God…

I tense as I hear the faint rustle of fabric—the unmistakable sound of her tying the silk around her neck.

“I’ll make sure to take a photo next time,” she muses, and emphasizes her next word. “Naked.”Fuck…“and put it on your phone screen. That way, whenever some desperate Omega tries to give you their number, they’ll see their competition.”

No fucking way did she just say that…

I’m too stunned to speak.

For a moment, the room is utterly silent.

Then Carter bursts out laughing, his voice booming.

“That’s it. She’s fucking perfect.”

Felix lets out a low whistle, and I can hear the faint smirk in his voice.

“She’s...something, alright.”

Her footsteps echo against the polished floors as she walks off, each click of her heels fading as she disappears down the hall.

Victoria huffs in indignation.

“Unbelievable!” she snaps, storming out with a sharp slam of the door.

The silence she leaves behind is heavy, broken only by Felix’s soft whistle which I know because it’s a far lower pitch than Carter’s.

“Well,” Carter says after a beat, “did we get that recorded?”

Felix adjusts his glasses— he must have retrieved them from Elizabeth before her departure because I hear that creak again —and his tone is smug as he responds.

“Of course.”

“Good,” Carter replies, his voice light with humor. “Because I’m masturbating to that. Now let me go find her. She deserves to be cooked for and finger-fed after that performance.”

He excuses himself, muttering something about not letting Elizabeth eat alone in that “forsaken kitchen” as he departs, making me wonder if the interior design of this place is that "dreadful”.

I guess it looks more luxuriously commercial than livable.

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