Page 50 of Knot the One They Want

I step out into the hallway, the door closing behind me with a soft click. The silence is a blessed relief, a momentary respite from the suffocating weight of responsibility and expectation. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes and dragging a hand down my face.

Even here, away from the watchful eyes of my father and his cronies, I can't escape the thoughts of Evie. She's like a virus, infecting every corner of my mind. I see her everywhere—in the flash of blonde hair on the street, in the scent of honey and vanilla wafting from a passing bakery.

It's maddening. Infuriating. And the worst part is, I know I'm not the only one affected. I see it in the way Asher's gaze lingers on her, the way Cole's fingers twitch whenever she enters the room. Even Lake, with his gentle heart and easy smiles, isn't immune to her pull. She's unleashed a protective side of him I've never seen before.

The incomplete mating bond, it calls to us. Demands we finish what we started. But I won't give in. I can't. To complete the bond would be to admit defeat, to surrender to the weakness that nearly destroyed us once before.

I won't let that happen again. I won't letherbe my downfall.

The phone vibrates again, insistent. With a muttered curse, I answer the call, barking out a gruff, "What?"

"Mr. Blackwood?" a polite, feminine voice inquires. "This is Melissa from First National Bank. We've noticed some unusual activity on your account and wanted to verify the charges with you."

I roll my eyes, annoyance spiking through me. Of course. Evie. I gave her one of my cards, a necessary evil to keep her placated and out of my hair. No doubt she's been on a littleshopping spree, indulging in the frivolous whims of a spoiled omega.

"Yes, the charges are authorized," I say impatiently, already moving to end the call.

"Sir, if you could just bear with me for a moment," Melissa presses, her tone apologetic but firm. "The amounts are quite significant, and we're required to review them with you for security purposes."

I grit my teeth, a muscle ticking in my jaw. "Fine. Make it quick."

"Of course, sir." The sound of rapid typing fills the line, followed by a slight intake of breath. "First, there's a charge from Brookfield Furnishings for $328,976.54. Can you confirm this purchase?"

I blink, certain I must have misheard. "I'm sorry, did you say three hundred and twenty-eightthousanddollars?"

"Yes sir, that's correct." More typing, then, "There's also a charge from Le Maison Home Goods for $40,952.87, and a pharmacy purchase for $20.63. Do these align with your records?"

A bark of incredulous laughter escapes me, disbelief warring with a strange sense of admiration.

Evie, you sneaky little minx.

She's not just indulging in a bit of retail therapy. She's actively trying to punish me. To get a rise out of me.

As if a few hundred grand could even make a dent in the Blackwood fortune. The interest alone on my trust fund could cover her little shopping spree a hundred times over. If she thinks she can bankrupt me as punishment for not paying enough attention to her, she's in for a rude awakening.

"Yes, those charges are all authorized," I confirm, a plan already forming in my mind. "Is that all?"

"Y-yes sir," Melissa stammers, clearly taken aback by my nonchalance. "Thank you for your time. Have a nice day."

The call ends with a click, and I slip the phone back into my pocket, a slow smile spreading across my face.

Oh, Evie. You want to play games?

Game on, little omega.

Game fucking on.

The sightthat greets me as I pull into the driveway of the mansion is enough to make my blood pressure spike. Three massive moving trucks are parked haphazardly on the gravel, their doors flung wide open to reveal an obscene amount of furniture and decor.

Evie stands in the midst of the chaos, a vision in a sleek cream pantsuit that hugs her curves like a second skin. She's directing the movers with the confidence of a seasoned general, her voice carrying across the lawn as she points and gestures.

Ellen hovers nearby, her dour face twisted in a mixture of disapproval and distress. The rest of the staff scurry about like ants whose hill has been kicked over, their arms laden with boxes and bags.

I park the car and stride across the lawn, my hands shoved deep in my pockets to hide the way they clench into fists. Evie spots me approaching and breaks into a dazzling smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Damien!" she calls out, her voice dripping with false cheer. "You're home early. I wasn't expecting you until later."

"Clearly," I drawl, my gaze sweeping over the pandemonium unfolding on my front lawn. "What's all this?"

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