Page 101 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

Finally, Dimitri stopped, bringing me to a halt alongside him. His hands moved to my shoulders, turning me gently to face what I assumed was our destination.

“Ready?” he rumbled.

I nodded, suddenly breathless.

His fingers worked at the knot of my blindfold, and slowly, the silk slipped away. I blinked against the sudden brightness, the world coming into focus in degrees—first shapes, then colors, then details.

A storefront stood before me, freshly painted in crisp white with gold trim. Large windows gleamed in the morning sun, and behind the spotless glass, soft blush walls and elegant furnishings beckoned. But what made my heart stop, what made my hands fly to my mouth in shock, was the sign hanging above the door—a beautiful, hand-lettered sign with delicate gold flourishes that read “Sweet as Sin.”

My bakery name. The name I’d whispered to Marco one night, tucked against his chest, thinking it was just a dream, just an unrealistic fantasy.

“Surprise,” Marco grinned, his blue eyes dancing with delight as he gauged my reaction. “You’re officially a business owner.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending, then looked back at the storefront. “What?” The word came out breathless—barely formed and full of disbelief.

“It’s yours, Kit,” Dimitri said simply, like he hadn’t just handed me the moon and stars. “All of it.”

“Mine?” I echoed, my brain struggling to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. “But... how? When did you—”

“We’ve been working on it for months,” Tommy explained, bouncing on his toes with barely contained excitement. “Sincethat night you made us those chocolate hazelnut things and said you wished everyone could try them.”

“Financiers,” I corrected automatically, then shook my head in disbelief. “You remembered that?”

Gio’s arm slid around my waist, anchoring me as my knees threatened to give way. “We remember everything you say, Sweetness.”

I shook my head, still trying to convince myself this was real while taking in the full view of the storefront. The windows were framed with delicate gold accents that caught the sunlight, gleaming and warm, like a fairytale come to life. A beautiful seating area was visible through the glass—teal velvet chairs and marble-topped tables, just like I’d described once while flipping through a design magazine.

“Want to see inside?” Marco asked, though he already knew the answer.

I nodded wordlessly, and Dimitri pressed something cool and metallic into my palm. Looking down, I saw a set of keys tied with a pink satin ribbon. Pretty golden keys to a door that had my logo etched in elegant script across the glass.

“Go on,” Tommy urged, giving me a gentle nudge forward. “Open it.”

My hands shook so badly that Gio had to guide my fingers, helping me fit the key into the lock. The door swung open with a musical chime, and the scent of fresh paint, polished wood, and sugar enveloped me.

Beretta darted inside first, nub wagging excitedly as Marco dropped the leash and gave him full rein.

I followed after him, my sandals clicking against the pristine white tile floors. The interior was even more beautiful than I’d imagined—soft blush walls, exposed brick on one side, pale wooden shelves lined with knick knacks and antique bakeware for decoration. A chalkboard menu hung behind a gleamingcounter, already filled with my signature recipes in artful handwriting. The display case was empty but spotless, waiting to be filled with my creations.

And there, in the corner, a large booth upholstered in teal leather, big enough for the four of them—a reserved sign in the center.

“For us,” Tommy explained, following my gaze. “So we always have somewhere to sit when we come visit you.”

“Come see the kitchen,” Marco urged, taking my hand and pulling me gently toward the back.

I followed in a daze, hardly believing what I was seeing. The kitchen that awaited me was a baker’s paradise. Stainless steel countertops gleamed under the lights. Professional-grade mixers and ovens lined the walls. And in the center stood a massive marble-topped island for rolling dough. Everything was state-of-the-art, from the proofing cabinet to the industrial refrigerator.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, running my fingertips over the cool marble. “This is... incredible.”

“Only the best for our Omega.” Dimitri watched me from the doorway, his expression softer than usual.

I turned slowly, taking it all in. “But—” I hesitated, reality crashing through my euphoria. “Omegas aren’t allowed to own businesses. The licensing alone would’ve been a nightmare, not to mention the property laws. How did you—”

Dimitri shrugged casually, as if he were discussing the weather rather than bending laws that had existed for decades. “I called in a favor with the governor,” he said simply. “Technically, the business license is in my name, but the contracts, the brand, the creative—it’s all yours. Your vision. Your bakery. No one will question it, and if they do...” His voice darkened slightly, his Alpha presence filling the room. “They’ll wish they hadn’t.”

I stared at the keys still clutched in my hand, understanding dawning. Legalities didn’t matter. Not when I knew what this really was. This wasn’t just a business—it was freedom, autonomy, a chance to create something that was mine in a world where Omegas owned nothing.

“I can’t believe it,” I whispered. “It feels like a dream.”

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