Page 103 of Knot Their Arrangement

He pauses for effect, letting the implications sink in before continuing.

"Who submitted it to my desk for the best detective in the city to patrol these very grounds tonight of all nights, knowing I'd stumble upon you guys mid-deed while he was driving away long gone after dropping off the Omega that brought him shame for having the balls to reject him."

The pieces click into place with brutal clarity as he delivers the final blow.

"In the end, he'd be free to find a new Omega of his liking while you lot would be behind bars for the 92-page document of all the sins he was about to plague you guys with."

His words leave them speechless, and I watch as the reality of their situation dawns on each face.

They've been played – set up as fall guys in an elaborate scheme. While Maharaja planned to escape with his reputation intact, leaving them to take the blame for whatever horrors they inflicted on Trouble.

The rain seems to fall harder as silence descends, each drop another nail in their collective coffin.

These men thought they were hunters, but they've been prey all along – not just to Maharaja's machinations, but to something far more dangerous.

They've stumbled into a game being played by powers far beyond their comprehension.

Between Castellano's criminal empire, Blackthorn's financial might, Ezekiel's legal authority, and my own reputation for violence, they're facing a force that could destroy them in a dozen different ways.

And that's before considering what we're capable of when we work together.

Silence falls over the group like a heavy shroud, broken only by the steady drumming of rain.

Ezekiel sighs, the sound carrying a disturbing contentment as he slides his hands into his pockets with calculated casualness. Every movement screams predator playing with prey.

"Well, it looks like we have an obvious misunderstanding," he begins, a smirk playing at his lips that holds nothing of joy but everything of promised retribution. Water drips from his hair, making him look like some avenging angel descended to deliver judgment. "I mean, we could get all violent here but then again the six special op snipers in the distance with trackers on each of you would take you out before you had the chance to pull the trigger beforehand."

The men's eyes drop to their chests in perfect synchronization, finally noticing the red dots centered over their hearts.

The Black Serpent Pack's elite fighters, known for their brutality in the underground fighting rings, suddenly look like nothing more than scared children realizing they're in far over their heads.

"But I'm a good fair man," Ezekiel continues, his tone carrying that dangerous playfulness that usually precedes violence. "One that tries to tame his anger despite the obvious fact that your pack of serpents decided to try and hurt, defile, and claim our Omega. Our precious princess that we've been fighting so hard to 'knot' announce our arrangement." His eyes gleam with dark humor. "Get it? Knot."

His laugh echoes through the forest, carrying an edge of mania that makes even me tense slightly. But I know this side of him – the detective who plays with his prey before striking.

"K.N.O.T. their Arrangement," he emphasizes each letter with clear enjoyment. "The hidden code name for the investigation sitting on FBI, CIA, and Secret Ops desks, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take Maharaja Adhiraj Vikram Singh down after the special case was requested by one of the wealthiest Omegas who is actually one of the founders of the Knot Their Omega movement that just launched and is in legal support of the government and laws."

He pauses for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying their growing discomfort.

"Want to know what it stands for? Knowledge Network Operation Taskforce." His smile grows sharper. "Cute, right? How we took their precious term for claiming Omegas and turned it into the very thing that will destroy their whole system?"

The Black Serpent Pack members stand frozen, their earlier bravado completely evaporated. Even their leader, who spoke so confidently before, seems unable to form words.

Ezekiel nods, satisfaction radiating from him as he walks toward Trouble and me.

His movements are deliberate, measured, like a large cat approaching its den. Though the mask hides her expression, I can feel how she responds to his presence – a subtle relaxation in her muscles, an easing of tension.

He leans down, pressing a firm kiss to the top of her head. The gesture carries so much meaning – protection, possession, promise.

"Meri Mishti,"he murmurs, combining 'my sweetness' in Hindi with obvious affection. "As much as I'd enjoy killing these men instantly for daring to hunt you, I'm obligated to give them at least a chance of redemption."

She tilts her head up to meet his gaze, and though the mask conceals her features, something passes between them. Some silent communication speaks of a connection deeper than their brief encounter would suggest.

"Ah," he breathes, reading something in her posture that I'm just beginning to notice. "I should do something as a reminder of messing with what's ours, shouldn't I?"

Her response isn't verbal – instead, she lifts her hand slowly, as if reaching for something only she can see. The gesture seems to catch Ezekiel off guard, his eyes meeting mine in a moment of shared uncertainty.

A dark suspicion forms in my mind about what she's asking for. It's almost too cynical, too perfectly aligned with the darkness we've all been trying to protect her from.

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