Page 1 of Knotted

CHAPTER 1

Brian

From the age of four, my fate was sealed.

I mean, with the backyard being Gotham City, and the living room sofa transformed into the ultimate battlefield every afternoon—weekends, too—my future was crystal clear.

I was Iron Man—armed with sheer determination and an indomitable will. Some call me stubborn. Often my mom.

And since my best friend Mark was Batman, and his brother, Zac, perpetually switched gears between a half dozen evil villains, our battles were epic.

And usually ended with one of us in the ER on a monthly basis.

As if childhood games could foreshadow reality.

My foundations are built on a long line of heroes. My grandfather served in the legendary 101st Airborne Division, earning him a Silver Star and a Purple Heart.

My father was a Green Beret, leading missions that were the stuff oflegends.

When it came to me, being a soldier wasn’t just in my blood—it was my destiny.

From the moment I enlisted, I thrived. A bold statement, especially for the guy who was voted both prom king and most likely to end up in jail.

The drills, the discipline, the camaraderie—it all resonated with me. I excelled at executing missions with laser precision, each one building my confidence and arrogance in equal measure.

But airborne operations spoke to me like nothing else ever could. Leaping out of a perfectly good plane and hurtling toward the earth at breakneck speeds, relying on nothing but a thin piece of fabric to save my life—it was pure adrenaline.

A terrifying thrill that both scared me shitless and set me absolutely free. It gave me purpose. Defined me like nothing else before.

Like the kid who dashed around in his underwear and bedsheet cape, I felt invincible. All it took was one mistake—a sudden shift of the wind, an immovable cluster of trees—and my perfect world came crashing down around me.

That small twist of fate shattered everything I knew. My body broken, my spirit teetering on the edge, I clung to the one thing that could hold me together: pain.

Raw and unforgiving, I leaned into its cold beauty. And it kept me alive, transforming me from hero to someone tipping over the edge until I’ve become a man no one recognizes.

Playboy.

Asshole.

Sinner.

All while wearing five-figure suits and watches that cost more than cars.

I doubled down on being the worst side of me, doing whatever it took to dull the ache and keep the demons at bay. Because the real battle isn’t in the field or the sky.

It’s being haunted by all the mistakes I made, wishing to my core I could make just one right.

“I’ll do it,”I say, my voice slicing through the room’s thick tension. For the past hour, I’ve watched Mark wrestle with his dilemma—caught between planning a six-week dream honeymoon for him and his blushing bride—aka, my baby sister—and the looming threat of four major accounts slipping through the cracks if he’s off in Fiji, New Zealand, and Australia. These are all places Jess has fantasized about visiting since she was a kid.

With his former stand-in, his brother Zac, trading his suit and tie for a perpetual lumberjack ensemble, The Centurion Group is at a major crossroads, and I’m stepping in to play traffic cop.

Mark blinks, clearly taken aback. “You’ll do . . . what?”

“I’ll take the reins,” I say firmly, meeting his gaze. “I’ll stand in as the acting suit until you return.”

“He knows the operation as well as we do,” Zac says, rubbing his ever-growing scruff. His contemplative eyes shift to me. “But you do realize you’ll hate it, right?”

I shake my head. “For the most part, this place is a well-oiledmachine. You’re just looking for a front man to be the face of the campaign for a month. I think I can handle it.”

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