Page 39 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

His gaze shifts away from her. Drops.

“Thought so.”

Robert clears his throat. “What about the rest of his pack?”

Veyra shrugs. “His alpha and the rest of them will be taken care of.”

Jax. Stone. Finn. My stomach twists.

“This is too messy,” Caldwell says, standing stiffly, clearly still disturbed by my presence. “I told you I wanted a clean transaction. Not…this.”

Heath’s mask of professional courtesy drops abruptly. “This is partially your fault, Cee,” she snaps, gesturing sharply. “You’re the one who wanted this omega so badly. You’re the one who wanted the Ironwoods’ first omega, too, and almost caused that asshole’s family to reveal the whole operation when thatdickburned all our bridges and killed his own sister in the process.”

The words hit me like poison arrows, each one a revelation more shocking than the last.

Caldwell…Robert Caldwell…was the one who had wanted Finn?

And he’s the reason my family went after Finn? The reason for the “accident” that nearly killed us both?

And my sister…

For a moment, I’m numb. Reality reconfiguring itself around these new truths. I’ve spent years trying to piece together what happened that night, why my family went to such lengths to retrieve Finn. Why they almost killedmeto get to him? But maybe it wasn’t them at all. Maybe…maybe it was him. Caldwell.

No. It’s a lie. It has to be. They’re trying to break me, to make me question everything.

But doubt is a poison, and once introduced, it’s hard to excise.

Caldwell’s eyes meet mine through the glass, and I let every ounce of my hatred show in my gaze. He takes a step back, his discomfort obvious.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” he says, turning away. “Find another buyer.”

Heath steps away from where she’s been blocking his view of Hailey. “Are you going to pretend you don’t smell that, Cee?” Her voice drops, becomes almost coaxing. “That potent omega pussy just waiting for you. After all, it’s what you paid for. It’s what I’ve risked my neck for.”

She moves closer to him, her voice hardening. “This fool could have let it all come apart at that gala. I never imagined they would actually take the little pig under their wing, make her pack. Do you know how hard it was to extract her? The resources I had to use?And now you want to walk away?”

Everything she’s saying makes my blood boil hotter. The casual way she speaks about Hailey, like she’s nothing more than property.

Caldwell hesitates, his gaze drifting to Hailey. I can see the conflict in his expression, the war between caution and desire. And then his eyes drop to his own body, to the visible evidence of his reaction to Hailey’s heat scent.

“Three million,” Heath says. “A considerable drop in our initial agreed-upon price. Or she goes to the next buyer.”

I slam into the glass again, hard enough that the chair legs screech against the floor. It doesn’t even crack. Doesn’t even shudder. Fury chokes me, made all the more potent by my helplessness.

“Make a decision, Cee,” Heath says, impatience threading through her voice. “We don’t have all night.”

Caldwell draws a deep breath, visibly wrestling with himself. Then his expression hardens, something cold and resolute settling over his features.

“Fine,” he says, straightening his suit jacket. “As long as you take care of that…little problem.” He jerks his chin toward me.

Heath’s smile makes me want to shave her lips off with a knife. “Consider it done.”

She steps aside, giving him clear access to Hailey, who hasn’t moved through this entire exchange. What have they given her? How deep is this chemical stupor they’ve forced her into?

Caldwell approaches her slowly, like a man hypnotized. He reaches out, running a finger down her cheek, then lower, to her collarbones. His fat, dirty hand grasps one of her breasts and?—

I throw myself against the restraints again, a roar building in my chest. The leather creaks but holds firm. The glass doesn’t so much as vibrate when I slam the chair against it once more.

Caldwell’s gaze meets mine briefly before skittering away. A flicker of something—shame? Fear?—crosses his features.

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