Page 46 of Knot the One They Want

"And who might you be?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends an involuntary shiver down my spine.

Addison rises to her feet, squaring her shoulders as she meets his stare head-on. "I'm Addison, Evie's best friend." She tilts her head, a saccharine smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "And you must be Damien."

Damien arches an eyebrow, his gaze darting between us. I can tell he's trying to decipher the unspoken tension crackling in the air. "Has Evie said much about me?" he asks, his tone deceptively casual.

Addison's smile sharpens, her eyes glinting with barely concealed disdain. "No, she hasn't. You must not have made much of an impression."

I suck in a sharp breath, my heart hammering against my rib cage. Oh, shit. Leave it to Addison to throw down the gauntlet right out of the gate. I brace myself for Damien's reaction, expecting him to bristle at the blatant disrespect.

But to my surprise, he merely chuckles, a dry, humorless sound that sends a chill down my spine. "I can see why you two are friends," he remarks.

Addison rolls her eyes.

Damien's eyes flicker over to me for a brief moment before he shrugs, his expression smoothing into one of cool indifference. "Well, don't mind me. I'll just be heading to my study."

I rise to my feet, my heart pounding in my throat as I call out, "Wait!"

Damien stops, his broad shoulders tensing beneath his crisp white shirt. He turns, his icy blue eyes meeting mine with a guarded expectancy that sends a shiver down my spine. I swallow hard, steeling myself for the conversation I know we need to have.

"I meant to ask about the household funds," I say, my voice coming out a lot steadier than I feel. "How can I procure what I need to make the house comfortable?"

His brow furrows, a flicker of annoyance crossing his chiseled features. "The servants take care of all the shopping, and the house is perfectly comfortable."

Addison snorts beside me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sure, if you like living in a postmodern funeral home."

Damien's jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing at the jab, but he doesn't rise to the bait.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I meet his gaze head-on. "I am the lady of the house now," I remind him, my tone firm despite the butterflies in my stomach. "I have a right to decorate as I see fit. Besides, I need things."

His eyebrow arches, a challenge glinting in his eyes. "And what exactly do you need that you don't already have here?"

A sudden surge of boldness washes over me, and I decide to play the one card I know will make him squirm. "Omega things," I say sweetly, batting my lashes with feigned innocence. "Toiletries, nesting materials,tampons." I add the last one pointedly, relishing the way his face pales at the mention of feminine hygiene products.

Male alphas are so fucking predictable, it's pathetic.

He reaches into his pocket, his movements stiff and jerky as he pulls out a sleek black credit card. "Fine," he mutters, thrusting it toward me like it's a live grenade. "You can take this."

I pluck the card from between his fingers, a thrill of triumph surging through me as I flash him a cool smile. "Thank you."

He grunts in response, his gaze darting away from mine as he turns on his heel. "I have to get back to work," he tosses over his shoulder, his long strides carrying him out of the room before I can say another word.

As soon as Damien's footsteps fade down the hall, Addison and I turn to each other, our eyes wide with disbelief. For a moment, we just stare, the silence stretching between us like ataut rubber band. And then, as if on cue, we both burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

I collapse back onto the couch, clutching my stomach as peals of laughter spill from my lips. Addison doubles over, her auburn curls bouncing with each gasping breath. It's the kind of laughter that bubbles up from your toes, the kind that leaves you breathless and aching in the best possible way.

"Oh my god," Addison wheezes, swiping at the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Did you see his face? I can't believe he got so flustered over you mentioning tampons. What is he, fifteen?"

I snort, rolling my eyes as I catch my breath. "No, just an alpha," I say dryly, my tone laced with equal parts amusement and exasperation.

It's a sad truth, but one I've come to accept. For all their posturing and bravado, most alphas are woefully inept when it comes to the realities of omega biology. Or female biology, for that matter. The mere mention of anything related to our cycles is enough to send them running for the hills, as if the very thought of menstruation might somehow taint their precious masculinity.

Addison shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she plucks the black credit card from my fingers. She holds it up to the light, examining it like a rare artifact. "Well, at least you got this out of him," she muses, a sly grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

I take the card back, turning it over in my hands as I consider the possibilities. It's a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. A tangible reminder that even the most stubborn alphas can be brought to heel with the right leverage.

"Yeah," I murmur, my mind already whirring with ideas. "I guess I do."

Addison leans forward, her brow furrowed with curiosity. "So, what are you going to do with it?" she asks, her tone equal parts eager and mischievous.

---