Page 14 of Knot Your Romeo

“Good. You don’t need that kind of complication. And in reality, if he can fight his instincts, he can’t be a true scent match. He can smell your top layer, but not the real you.”

“I know, and the last thing I need is an alpha complication. Not when I’ve just escaped one,” I whisper into my phone like someone is going to hear me.

I stare out of the window. The night is clear, stars winking above Silvercrest Manor like it’s part of a fairytale.

“Just a minute…” There’s a pause, then Lottie’s voice drops to a whisper. “I have to tell you that Carlos has been asking about you and Mom.”

My blood runs cold at the mention of her husband. “You haven’t told him anything, right?”

“Of course not. But Emmie, he knows something’s up. He keeps checking my phone, monitoring my calls. That’s why I waited for him to be at the club before I answered your call.”

“Is he hurting you?” I ask, my grip tightening on the phone.

Another pause. “Not physically. But...I hate him, Em. I hate what this marriage has become.”

The bitter irony isn’t lost on me. Lottie was married off to a mafia alpha who wanted heirs. She thought getting away from our stepfather was easy. Now she is trapped in a different gilded cage.

“I just wish...” I trail off, staring at the manor house.

“What?”

“I wish I had an Alpha who actually cared. Someone powerful enough to protect me, but who wouldn’t treat me like property?” I laugh without humor. “Stupid Omega dreams, right?”

“Not stupid,” Lottie says softly. “Just unlikely in our world.”

“Are you okay?” I ask her. “You sound a little down.”

“Fine. Just sad that I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

“We’ll work something out.” I just don’t know how.

There’s another pause, and when she speaks again, her voice is quieter. “Emmie, I need to tell you something about—“

The line goes dead.

I stare at my phone in confusion, then try calling back. It goes straight to voicemail. I try three more times with the same result, that familiar knot of worry reforming in my stomach.

An hour later, I’m still thinking about my sister. Something isn’t right with her. I can feel it in my bones, the way she sounded too bright, too careful. Like she was performing happiness rather than feeling it. But there’s nothing I can do from here except hope she’s safe and call again tomorrow.

The party sounds are getting louder now, music thumping across the grounds. I try to focus on my biology textbook, reading about metabolic processes, but the noise is distracting. Every few minutes, bursts of laughter or shouting pierce through the night air. I’m halfway through a chapter when I give up and grab my e-reader and open it to where I finished reading the mafia romance I’d downloaded. But the moment I read my book, movement near the garden catches my eye.

Two figures emerge from the main house, silhouetted against the warm light spilling from the windows. Even from this distance, I recognize Romeo’s tall frame, the confident way he moves through the space like he owns it. The woman with him is smaller, blonde—Cerise, I realize. Her cheerleader uniform is now traded for a short dress that shows off her perfect figure.

I should look away. I should close the curtains and mind my own business.

But I don’t.

Romeo backs Cerise against the garden wall, his hands tangling in her hair as he kisses her hard. She responds eagerly, her leg wrapping around his waist as she pulls him closer.

Even from my window, I can see the heat between them, the way they move together like they’ve done this a hundred times before.

My chest tightens with something that feels suspiciously like jealousy—which is ridiculous. I turned Romeo down. I told him I wanted nothing to do with his arrangement. I have no right to feel anything about who he kisses or how. But watching him touch Cerise makes something crack inside my rib cage. This is what he chose instead of fighting for the match he feels.

Romeo’s hands move to Cerise’s dress, pushing it up her thighs as she arches against him. The moonlight catches on her blonde hair, her perfect skin, the expensive jewelry at her throat. She looks like she belongs in his world in a way I never could. They’re beautiful together. Perfect.

Everything I’m not.

Even though I don’t want him, the pain in my chest intensifies, making it hard to breathe. I press my hand to my sternum, trying to ease the ache, but it only gets worse as I watch Romeo move in and out of the woman he chose as his.

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