Page 184 of Knot Like Other Girls

"Bella, darling, are you excited for tonight?" Braxley prompts, still filming.

I nod, keeping my smile firmly in place. "Very excited."

"Bella's been hands-on with the planning committee," Braxley lies smoothly. "She has such a heart for giving back, don't you, sweetheart?"

Before I can formulate a response, Braxley continues, "Make sure to follow me all night for exclusive behind-the-scenes glimpses of the gala! Now, let's get this evening started right with some music!"

He taps his phone, and the car fills with the latest chart-topping pop song as we pull away from the curb.

The drive to the downtown hotel hosting the gala is mercifully brief. Braxley alternates between filming short clips and practicing aloud what he'll say to various influencers and industry connections expected to attend. I mostly tune him out, focusing instead on mentally preparing for what's ahead.

My family will be there, I'm sure. The Worthingtons always invite my parents to maintain the illusion that they approve of my beta background. My sister, Ashlyn, will come too, undoubtedly dressed to outshine every other beta in attendance. Maybe the omegas, too.

And then there's Heather.

According to the intelligence Savva gathered, she's not only attending but planning to livestream her entire evening. The thought of facing the woman who possibly hired a hitman to shoot at us makes me feel slightly nauseous.

"We're here!" Braxley announces as we pull up to the red carpet extending from the street to the hotel's grand entrance. "Remember, 'blessed, humble, chic' for the photographers. No weird expressions."

I nod automatically.

The valet opens my door, and I step out carefully, the cool evening air a welcome relief after the car's artificially floral scent—another of Braxley's signature fragrances pumped through the ventilation system. I smooth my gown and wait for Braxley tojoin me, mentally reviewing the positions my alphas will be taking inside.

Roman near the main entrance, sweeping for threats. Liam by the bar, where he can monitor the entire room. Cole beside the eastern pillar, with clear sightlines to most of the ballroom. Troy and Savva flanking me.

Braxley appears beside me, immediately taking my arm and positioning us for the photographers lining the carpet. "Smile!" he commands through his teeth, his own expression transforming into that practiced combination of confidence and humility he's perfected for the camera.

The flashes are blinding, voices calling our names from all directions.

"Braxley! Look here!"

"Bella! This way!"

"When's the wedding date?"

"Is that a Valentino gown?"

Braxley moves us slowly down the carpet with Troy and Savva following us. My smile remains fixed, my posture perfect, as I've been trained to present for these events.

I'm sure I'm not recognizable to the Vanguard Pack. The idea bothers me a little, if I'm being honest with myself. But it's just for one night. Just one more night, and then I'm finally fucking free.

When we reach the entrance, I release a small sigh of relief. The carpet gauntlet is always the worst part. Bright lights, shouted questions, the pressure to appear flawless from every angle.

The hotel lobby opens into a grand ballroom already filled with elegantly dressed guests mingling under crystal chandeliers. A string quartet plays in one corner, their music barely audible over the buzz of conversation. Waitstaff weavethrough the crowd carrying trays of champagne flutes and delicate hors d'oeuvres.

My eyes immediately search the room, instinctively seeking the rest of the pack.

Roman stands near the entrance as expected, looking devastating in a perfectly tailored black suit. His golden-hazel eyes meet mine briefly. He gives me a subtle nod, his lips curving just for me.

Liam is positioned by the bar, his impressive frame filling out his suit and drawing appreciative glances from several omega attendees. The tattoos on his bare hands, neck, and theMemento Moriscript on the side of his head give him an edge among the old-money crowd, but they seem fond of his charm anyway.

And there, by the eastern pillar, is Cole. My breath catches at the sight of him. His white hair is styled away from his face, revealing rather than hiding his scars. The midnight blue suit Savva selected for him accentuates his broad shoulders and powerful frame perfectly. Even from across the room, I feel the intensity of his gaze as it finds mine.

"Isabella!" A shrill voice breaks through my reverie. "Darling, you look positively ordinary."

I turn to find my mother approaching, her smile tight and her eyes critical as they sweep over my appearance. My father trails behind her, already clutching what appears to be his second scotch of the evening.

"Hello, Mother," I say, leaning in to accept her air kisses beside each cheek. "Father."

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