Page 44 of Knot Their Arrangement

Her words hit me with stunning irony.

This woman, who just spent the last several minutes deeming me worthless, is herself in an even more precarious position than I am. No pack, no papers — just prejudice and desperation wrapped in designer clothes and false superiority. She clings to her perceived status like a shield, using others' perceived inadequacies to hide her own vulnerable position.

"Rajkumari," Kieran's voice carries the Hindi word for princess with perfect pronunciation, making my eyes widen in surprise. "Perhaps instead of termination, she should experience what she attempted to arrange for our Omega?"

How does he know that word?

The question circles in my mind as I process his suggestion. The term isn't just the literal translation for princess — it carries cultural weight and speaks of respect and tradition in ways that transcend simple vocabulary.

It's the kind of word you learn from immersion, respecting, and understanding our culture. It’s not from some quick translation app. It’s also not something one would be quickly searching up in an intense situation like this.

Then again, this is from an Alpha that seemed to show up from nowhere with a pair of embezzled sandals that actually fit my feet.

His mismatched eyes hold a calculating gleam as he continues.

"After all, what better way to learn empathy than through experience?"

Victoria's throat works visibly as she swallows, her earlier confidence evaporating under Kieran's suggestion. Damon's smirk grows predatory as he tilts his head, considering.

"A brilliant idea,caro mio," he purrs, the Italian endearment rolling off his tongue. "But perhaps we should offer saving grace first?" His attention shifts to Victoria, who seems to shrink under his gaze. "Victoria, was it? A simple chance to correct your...assessment."

He gestures elegantly toward my feet, where the diamonds catch the lobby's ambient lighting.

"Tell us the brand and estimated cost of these sandals. A range will suffice. I wouldn't be so cruel as to demand exact figures for something so rare."

All eyes turn to Victoria, whose makeup suddenly seems too heavy, her designer outfit too try-hard. She licks her lips nervously, eyes darting between the sandals and Damon's expectant expression.

"They're...they must be..." She fumbles for words, clearly out of her depth. "Jimmy Choo's latest collection? N-No, custom obviously…maybe fifty thousand?"

The silence that follows her guess is deafening, broken only by approaching footsteps. A new figure emerges from the shadows of the club's interior, flanked by two imposing bodyguards in black suits.

His complexion is a rich mahogany, his bearing undeniably royal.

"House of Mehrota's Celestial Collection," he announces with quiet authority. "One of two pairs ever created, valued at 4.2 million dollars. The twin pair resides in the Royal Museum of Jaipur."

Holy shit.

The fact this dude just came out of nowhere and is able to answer such facts that must not be easily accessible knowledge, leaves me feeling a tad nervous as to who he is.

"How would you even know that?" Victoria blurts out, earning an immediate horrified gasp from the manager.

"How dare you address Prince—" the manager begins, but the newcomer cuts him off with a raised hand.

"Prince Rajveer Singh Rathore of the House of Jodhpur," he introduces himself, dark eyes scanning me from head to toe with uncomfortable intensity. "Though I'm surprised to see the Princess in such an establishment."

Shit…

My heart stops.

There's only one reason he would know me, only one connection that would bring that knowing look to his eyes. He must be connected to the pack I fled from, to the marriage I rejected.

He knows my ex…

I try to keep my expression neutral even as Damon's hand finds mine again, Kieran's gentle squeeze of my other hand providing additional anchor. Their touch feels protective, though they couldn't possibly understand the full weight of this moment.

Prince Rajveer steps closer, his smile not reaching his eyes.

"Your husband is rather bold, sending you here with a different pack. Like some sort of joke." His expression hardens slightly. "But he should remember, the Rogues always collect what's owed to them."

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