Page 191 of Knot Happening Again

Leon's lips quirk up in a smirk that's almost predatory. "Something like that."

We park a block away, the neon signs of the bar casting an eerie glow over the empty street. Leon nods toward a figure stumbling out the side door into an alley. Showtime.

I hang back as Leon approaches the guy, playing it casual. "Hey man, got a cigarette?"

The reporter pats his pockets, shaking his head. "Nah, sorry."

That's my cue. I step out of the shadows, effectively blocking the alley's exit. The guy's eyes widen as he realizes he's trapped.

Leon's voice is deceptively calm. "That's funny. You were fresh out the other night, too."

Recognition dawns on the reporter's face, quickly followed by fear. He backs up a few steps. "Look, I was just doing my job. It's not a crime to show up at a party."

"You're right," Leon says, taking a step closer. "I'm not a cop. I just want to know who told you where we'd be."

The guy tries to play dumb, but I can see the sweat beading on his forehead. "I don't know what you're talking about. I got an anonymous tip."

I laugh, the sound echoing off the brick walls. "Come on, man. We're all friends here. Why don't you tell us the truth before things get... uncomfortable?"

His eyes dart between us, weighing his options. "I'll call the police," he threatens weakly.

Leon's smile is all teeth. "I don't think you want to do that. My investigator dug up some interesting information about your recent DUI. It'd be a shame if your parole officer got wind of you violating the terms of your probation being here." He pauses, sniffing the air with a grimace. "And smelling like you tried to pickle yourself."

I pull out my phone, hitting record. "Yeah, it sure would be a shame. What's the matter, Marky? Don't like being filmed without your permission?"

The fight goes out of him all at once. His shoulders slump, defeat written in every line of his body. "Okay, fine. It was some chick who knows your omega. Said her name was… Nadine, I think?"

Leon's face goes blank as he and I exchange a look.

"Natalie?" he asks flatly.

"Yeah, that's it," Mark mutters. "Natalie."

The name hits me like a punch to the gut.

Natalie.

Ophelia's best friend.

The same Natalie who's been by her side through all of this.

I glance at Leon, seeing my own shock mirrored on his face. This can't be right. There has to be some mistake.

But it makes so much fucking sense. She's been there all the times the press has ambushed us, or at least known about it.

And she's the only one who knows Ophelia works at the Scent Bar. The only one who'd have any reason to know that connection when we had barely started dating, and were so fucking careful about keeping her sheltered from the press. Even with our own friends and family at first.

"Prove it," Leon snarls. "Show me the evidence."

The guy fumbles in his jacket, pulling out his phone. Leon just snatches it, going through calls and text messages. I can't see what he's seeing, but his expression tells me enough.

It's bad.

"Fuck," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "How the hell are we going to tell Ophelia?"

Leon's expression hardens, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "We're not. Not yet. First, we're going to pay Natalie a little visit."

As we walk back to the car, my mind races. How could Natalie do this? Why? The betrayal cuts deep, and it's not even my friend. I can only imagine how Ophelia will feel when she finds out.

---