Page 30 of Knot Your Romeo

I sink onto my bed, pulling my knees to my chest as the full implications hit me.I gave Beck my real name.He’ll wonder about my new identity. He knows where I live, where I go to school, who my mother is. He can destroy everything my mom worked so hard to protect me from.

And tomorrow, I’ll have to pretend I’ve never seen him before. I’ll have to act like the housekeeper’s innocent daughter while he decides what to do, knowing that his one-night stand is now living on his property.

I don’t even know what a man like Beck would do when his past indiscretions threaten to complicate his carefully ordered life? I have a sinking feeling I’m about to find out.

Outside, the party continues, laughter and music drifting across the grounds like everything is normal, like my world hasn’t just tilted off its axis. But through my closed curtains, I can still feel Beck’s presence like a burning brand, a reminder that some mistakes follow you no matter how far you run. And some alphas never really let you go.

My phone buzzes with a text. I check the caller.

Unknown: We need to talk.

I stare at the message, my hands trembling.

Only one person could have gotten my number, could have found me so quickly. The same man who’d found me in that Boston hotel bar and taken me apart so thoroughly I’m still picking up the pieces. It could be worse. It could be Blake. But unless I tell my mom what I did, there’s nowhere left to run.

12

Beck

The morning sun streamsthrough the windows of the breakfast room as I settle into my usual chair with coffee and the financial reports I’ve been avoiding. Yesterday’s celebration for Remi’s gold medal at the National Championships was a success by all measures, but now it’s back to the reality of running a business empire.

“Dad, pass the orange juice?” Remi reaches across the table. Her dark hair is still damp from her morning shower.

“Here, princess.” I slide the pitcher toward her, then glance at my other son. “River, you’re unusually quiet this morning. Is everything all right?”

River looks up from his phone, his green eyes slightly unfocused. “Just tired. The party went pretty late.”

“Not too late, I hope. You have training today.”

“It’s Saturday, Dad,” Remi laughs, stealing a piece of bacon from River’s plate. “Though I should probably get back tothe rink. Coach wants to work on some extra turns for the Olympics.”

Romeo enters the breakfast room with his usual morning surliness, moving to the sideboard and loading his plate with more food than he’ll actually eat. He’s been doing that since he was thirteen—nervous eating that he never quite outgrew. Since his parents died, he came to live with me, along with his brother and sister.

“Morning, sunshine,” Remi teases, dodging the grape Romeo throws at her. “Someone’s grumpy.”

“I’m fine,” Romeo mutters, settling into his chair and attacking his eggs with unnecessary violence.

“Right. And I’m planning a career change to accounting,” River deadpans, earning a laugh from Remi.

I study Romeo’s profile, noting the shadows under his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. “How are things going with Cerise? She seemed upset when she left last night.”

“We’re fine,” Romeo says curtly, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Are you?” Remi raises an eyebrow. “Because she looked like she was about to cry when I saw her in the garden.”

Romeo’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth. “You were watching us?”

“Hard not to when you’re having dramatic conversations right outside the main windows,” I observe. “Everything all right?”

For a moment, none of the kids speak. Then River says, “Cerise thinks Romeo likes someone else.”

“River,” Romeo warns, his voice carrying just enough Alpha authority to make his less aggressive brother back down.

“I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking,” River shrugs. “You’re acting weird.”

“Weird how?” I ask, genuine concern creeping into my voice.

Remi exchanges a look with River, some sibling communication passing between them. “He keeps staring at the cottage,” she says finally. “Like, constantly. It’s kind of creepy.”

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