Page 26 of Knot Their Arrangement

"Fucking hell," I mutter, taking one final pull from my cigarette before flicking it away. The ember arcs through the darkness like a falling star.

My phone feels heavy in my pocket, a reminder of the power I carry with one call.

I know exactly who to contact – someone who treats stalking as an art form. The only individual I know can find anyone in this city within hours just because they enjoy the challenge.

Pulling out my phone, I type out a quick message:

Need info on an Omega. Seen near Safe Haven around 11:55 PM. Traditional Indian attire. Find her.

The response is immediate:

Finally something interesting. Payment?

I smirk as I reply.

The usual. Just find her before she becomes another forest statistic.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I move to the passenger side of Ezekiel's car. He's already on a call, his expression growing more annoyed by the second as Chief Sullivan's voice carries through the speaker.

"—and with these recent developments, we need to be extra vigilant about criminal organization activity," Sullivan drones on. "Especially that Castellano character. The nerve of that mafia tycoon, thinking he can?—"

Ezekiel's eyes meet mine as I settle into the passenger seat, and I have to bite back a laugh at the irony.

If only the Chief knew that his star detective was currently sharing his car with the very "criminal mastermind" he's warning about.

"—running weapons through our port, trafficking God knows what through our streets, and now with this Omega legislation, who knows what that imbecile is planning?—"

I raise an eyebrow at 'imbecile', watching as Ezekiel struggles to maintain his professional demeanor.

We both know the truth – that I've actually been working to shut down the very trafficking rings Sullivan is accusing me of running.

That the weapons moving through the port belong to the Russian syndicate, not my organization.

But perception is everything in our world.

The police need their boogeyman, and I've cultivated my reputation carefully over the years. It brings me enough attention to get the connections that trust I can get anything from A to B with no trouble while giving a bit of enlightenment in my daily balance between successful businessman and villainous mastermind.

Let them think I'm the monster under the bed – it makes it easier to handle the real threats without interference.

Still, hearing Sullivan rant about me while I'm literally feet away from him through the phone…it's the kind of absurd situation that makes our relationship so dangerously thrilling.

Or maybe the thought of being caught turns me on even more.

I can't help but study Ezekiel's profile as he endures Sullivan's tirade.

The years have been kind to him – at twenty-nine, he's grown into his features in a way that makes my mouth water. Gone is the uncertain rookie I found in that alley; in his place sits a man who commands respect with every movement.

My mind drifts to our pack's unique dynamic.

At thirty-three, I'm the eldest, though Kieran trails close behind at thirty-two. Rhett, our wild child at twenty-two, rounds out our unlikely brotherhood. Each of us so different, yet somehow fitting together like pieces of a puzzle no one else can understand.

Looking at us on paper, we make no sense.

Me, the notorious mafia kingpin whose name makes lesser criminals tremble. My empire spans continents, my influence reaches into every shadowy corner of the city. The papers paint me as a monster, and I've cultivated that image carefully.

Then there's Ezekiel, the decorated detective whose sense of justice burns bright enough to illuminate the darkest corners of our world. Our relationship should be impossible – we represent opposite ends of the spectrum, law and chaos, order and mayhem. Yet here we are, sharing heated glances while his boss unknowingly rants about me through the speaker.

Rhett brings his own brand of chaos to our mix.

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