Page 26 of Knot Like Other Girls

And Bella? She's probably used to being surrounded by perfect alphas. The kind that don't make people flinch and look for an exit when they walk into a room.

I almost wish we were back in Sicily, dealing with trigger-happy mafiosos and corrupt politicians. At least there, I knew my place. Knew what was expected of me.

This is uncharted territory.

The thought of being in close quarters with an omega, of having to interact with her on a daily basis, sends a cold twinge down my spine. It's been so long since I've been around one for any length of time.

Not since...

No.

I shut that thought down hard, locking it away in the dark corners of my mind where I keep all the other things I can't afford to dwell on. The past is the past. It can't hurt me anymore.

But as I stare out the window at the approaching lights of Los Angeles, I can't shake the feeling that this job is going to drag up things better left buried.

That everything's about to go to shit.

And things have already been pretty fucking shitty.

CHAPTER 10

BELLA

Braxley's penthouse feels like a gilded cage, all sleek surfaces and ostentatious luxury that does nothing to ease the knot of anxiety in my stomach. I wander from room to room, trying to find a quiet corner where I can breathe without Braxley's incessant chatter and demands grating on my last nerve.

But there's no escape. His voice echoes off the marble floors and floor-to-ceiling windows, a constant reminder of the life I've somehow stumbled into.

"Bella, baby! Where are you? We need to make sure everything is perfect before the bodyguards arrive!"

I cringe, ducking into the guest bathroom and locking the door behind me. It's ridiculous, hiding from my own fiancé in the apartment we now have to share after the assassination attempt, but I need just a moment of peace. Just one goddamn minute where I don't have to paste on a smile and pretend that this is the life I've always dreamed of.

It was bad enough when I moved to Los Angeles a few months ago at the insistence of our families. But at least then, I had my own apartment. It was nicer than any apartment I'd ever seen before, but according to the Worthingtons, it was "humble."They wanted me to stay "down to earth" to make the Cinderella story more enticing to the masses.

Feels less like Cinderella and more like Beauty and the Beast. Only my fairy tale ending is going to be a million times worse.

Because I'm stuck with Gaston.

I stare at my reflection in the ornate mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back at me. My hair is perfectly styled, my makeup flawless—all courtesy of the glam squad Braxley insists I use. I almost look like I belong in this world of wealth and excess.

But my eyes give me away. They're tired, wary, a silent cry for help that no one seems to hear.

How did I end up here?

The memory of my conversation with Skye at the hospital feels like a lifetime ago, even though it's only been a few days. Her words echo in my mind, a lifeline I'm too afraid to grab onto.

"You don't owe that mannequin anything, Bella. You don't have to go through with this."

But I do owe him.

Or rather, I owe my family.

The debts that will be erased, the opportunities this marriage will bring them. It's a weight around my neck, dragging me down into a life I never wanted.

Even though I was clearly distressed by the change in scenery, they didn’t hide their excitement that Braxley’s parents insisted I move into the penthouse after the assassination attempt. Didn’t hide their excitement that I’d be one step closer to being a married omega with a rich alpha husband, one step closer to sending some of the excess their way.

A sharp knock on the door startles me out of my thoughts.

"Are you in there? Come on, we need to document everything before the bodyguards get here. It'll make great content!"

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