Page 5 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

I lowered myself into the chair beside her, body angling instinctively toward hers. Our knees touched, and I didn’t miss the way she leaned slightly into the contact, craving connection, even as her focus remained on Tommy.

“Any change?” I asked, though I’d spoken to the doctors before coming in.

She shook her head, returning her gaze to my brother’s sleeping form. “The doctor said his vitals are stronger today.” A pause, then softer, “He opened his eyes for almost five minutes earlier.”

The hope in her voice was both beautiful and heartbreaking. Her grip tightened around the coffee cup, knuckles going white. I could see the faint tremor in her hands—exhaustion, stress, and probably hunger, since she’d barely eaten in days.

I reached out, unable to stop myself, and tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. My fingers lingered against her cheek, feeling the softness there despite everything. Her skin was cool to the touch, a lack of movement and the overactive AC in the room chilling her through.

I sighed. “It might not seem like it, but we got lucky, Sweetness. All of us.”

My mind flashed back to that night—pulling ourselves from the wreckage of the explosion, the reckless drive home, rushing into the penthouse, not knowing what we’d find. The metallic scent of blood had hit me first, followed by Kitania’s terror-filled pheromones saturating the air. Vincent’s body sprawled in the hallway, a perfect hole through his head. And Kitania—Christ,our little Omega—bent over my brother’s prone form, blood covering her hands as she desperately tried to keep Tommy’s life from spilling out onto the floor.

The image was seared into my memory—her ice-blue eyes wide with shock, her clothes soaked crimson, her voice breaking as she begged Tommy to stay with her. Despite all she’d been through, all she’d survived in her past, I’d never seen her like that before. Truly shattered. It had shaken me to my core.

I took a sip of my coffee, using the rich taste and scalding heat to ground myself in the present. “You saved him, Dolcezza. And he’s going to wake up. I just know it.”

I watched as she sniffled, trying her best to blink back tears.

“Don’t make promises you’re not sure you can keep. Please. My heart can’t take it.”

Goddamn.Myheart fucking broke, splintering into a million tiny pieces.

“It’s not a promise, Sweetness. It’s a manifestation.”

Slowly, she nodded. Then blew out a long, heavy breath and leaned back in her chair. It was the first time I’d seen her relax all day.

“Then I’ll manifest with you,” she murmured. “I want Tommy to wake up. I want Beretta to keep his leg. And I want Rocco to die painfully for what he’s done to us. Tome.”

The hardness in her voice was almost more tragic than her sadness, her grief.

A long moment passed before I spoke again. “I never wanted this for you.” The confession slipped out before I could stop it. “This violence. This world. If I could give you a different life... I would.”

Her gaze met mine, those blue depths gleaming with a fierce edge. My sweet, gentle Omega was still there, but now she was fortified with steel—tempered in the fires of life and death, hardship and resilience.

“I chose this,” she replied with surprising firmness, capturing my hand with her free one and intertwining our fingers like we’d intertwined our lives. “I choseyou. All of you. And I always will.”

I rubbed at my chest, directly over my heart. “And we’ll always choose you, Dolcezza, every day, for the rest of our lives.”

That didn’t change how much I hated the abuse she’d suffered, the danger she was in, the life she’d been forced to take just to protect the family she loved. I wanted to pull her into my arms, shield her from the harsh realities of our world, but it was too late for that. She’d already seen the worst of it, had blood on her hands that matched our own.

“Still,” I said softly, squeezing her fingers gently. “When we found you in that basement, maybe we should’ve—”

“Don’t.” The single word sliced through my sentence as she gave a sharp shake of her head. “We can’t change the past, and I wouldn’t want to. This is where I belong, Gio. With Dimitri, Marco, Tommy,you…” A soft smile touched her lips. “You’remine, and I’myours.”

“Fuck, Dolcezza.” My thumb traced circles on the back of her hand, and I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against her temple. Her scent filled my lungs—that mossy sweetness so uniquely her.

God, I loved this woman.

For a long moment, we stayed just like that, breathing each other in. I almost didn’t want to break the silence, but I also had the overwhelming urge to take care of my Omega.

“You should rest. He’s not going anywhere.”

Kit shook her head, stubborn as always. “I need to be here when he wakes up again.”

“And if you collapse from exhaustion? What good will that do him?” I countered, though I knew it was useless. She’d refused to leave his side for more than a few minutes since he’d been admitted.

“I’ve slept,” she insisted, gesturing vaguely to the small cot in the corner of the private VIP room that money and threats had secured.

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