Page 102 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

“It’s all yours, Kitten. And very much real,” D promised, stepping closer to brush a stray tear from my cheek. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

Looking around, it hit me all at once—how much thought, how much love had been poured into every inch of this place. The creamy blush walls matched the exact shade I’d pointed out in a magazine months ago. The soft gold accents echoed the cabinet hardware I loved in our kitchen at home. The signage matched the font I’d shown Dimitri half-asleep on the couch one night, mumbling about how much I loved the curling letters.

Tommy had spent weeks subtly asking about layout ideas under the guise of “what would make baking easier?” Gio had clearly been taking mental notes on my favorite recipes—my signature almond croissants and lemon raspberry bars were already printed on the menu. And Marco, that sneaky Alpha, had gotten my dream bakery name out of me during pillow talk, murmured into his neck while I was sated and languid, when I didn’t think he was really listening.

But they’d all been listening. Plotting. Building me a dream I hadn’t even dared to chase.

My hand shook so badly that the keys jingled, and Gio wrapped a steady arm around my waist, pulling me against the solid warmth of his chest. “Breathe, Sweetness,” he murmured, pressing his lips to my temple.

Tommy crossed to my other side, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Is it okay? We can change anything you don’t like.”

“Don’t like?” I repeated, disbelieving. “It’s perfect. Every single inch of it is perfect.”

Marco grabbed his phone from his pocket, snapping a picture of me caught between laughing and crying, surrounded by my Alphas in my very own bakery. “For the memory book,” he explained with a wink.

“We open next week,” D added casually, leaning against the counter like he hadn’t just upended my entire world in the best possible way. “Everything’s ready. Health code. Business license. Permits. Kitchen’s stocked. Staff hired.”

“All taken care of,” Gio confirmed, voice low and warm as he gestured around the kitchen. “You just show up and bake.”

I stood in stunned silence, trying to process the magnitude of what they’d done. They hadn’t just given me a bakery; they’d given me purpose, identity beyond simply being their Omega. They’d given me something that was mine alone, while simultaneously showing me how deeply they understood me, how carefully they’d listened to every word I’d ever whispered.

Heart in my throat, I walked slowly back behind the counter, running my fingers over the smooth surface, then grazing along the keys of the brand-new cash register. A stack of crisp, white to-go boxes waited beneath the shelves, each embossed with the “Sweet as Sin” logo in that same delicate gold lettering. And there, hanging on a brass hook, was an apron with my name embroidered in elegant script, as if it had always belonged there.

I reached out and smoothed the fabric, tracing the letters of my name. Mine. Something that was mine in a world that had never let me own anything before.

A sudden bark caught my attention, and I turned to see Beretta trotting through the bakery, butt wagging. He gave another excited bark, then flopped dramatically in front of the register, rolling onto his back as if he owned the place. The Doberman looked up at me expectantly, clearly waiting for bellyrubs in his new kingdom. Or perhaps the little dog bones I’d taken to making him as an extra daily treat for being such a good boy.

I laughed through happy tears and looked back at my mates, clutching the keys in my hand against my heart. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to say thank you.”

Gio crossed to me first, his large hands cupping my cheeks as he kissed me slow and sweet, tasting of coffee and something uniquely him. “You already have, Sweetness,” he murmured against my lips. “Every day.”

Tommy was next, wrapping me up in a bear hug that lifted me clear off the ground. He spun me once before setting me down, kissing my nose, then my forehead in that playful way of his. “Seeing you happy’s all I’ve ever needed,” he promised, green eyes sparkling.

Marco slid in behind me, strong arms snaking around my waist, lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “But cupcakes don’t hurt.”

I turned in his arms, smiling up at him before popping onto my toes and giving him a kiss sweeter than sugar.

Then I looked to Dimitri. He approached last, as was his way—observing, calculating, making sure everyone else had their moment before taking his. He stepped close, one hand coming up to cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear.

“Are you happy, Kitten?” His dark eyes studied mine intently.

“Yes.” I covered his hand with mine. “But I was happy before this surprise. I love you, D. This is just icing on the cake.”

He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Fuck, Kitten.” He leaned down, claiming my lips in a kiss that made my toes curl and my heart race.

When we broke apart, Gio leaned against the counter, studying the empty display cases. “So, what are you going to bake first?”

My lips curved, and I felt more confident and certain than I had in years. “I think I’ll start by making cupcakes inspired by each of you,” I teased, resting my hands on my hips.

“Better make D’s extra dark and moody,” Tommy teased with a smirk, dodging the swat Dimitri aimed at his shoulder.

“With an ooey gooey middle,” Gio piled on, not missing a beat, then tossing me a wink.

“Funny,” D drawled, dry and amused, as he looked at Gio with a raised brow. “I thought that wasyou.”

Laughter echoed through the bakery, bright and full and free. It bounced off the freshly painted walls, filling every corner, christening the space with joy before the first batch of cookies ever hit the oven.

I glanced out the window with a soft smile, watching potential customers strolling by, already dreaming up new recipes as sunlight spilled across the floor, warming everything it touched. I could see my future laid out before me, sweet and rich and full of possibilities.

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