Page 79 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

“Position yourself between me and everyone else. Like you’re waiting for a bomb to go off.”

I hadn’t realized she’d noticed. “Force of habit.” Especially after our date at the movies. I’d have taken that bullet for her in a goddamn second.

“I don’t mind,” she said, surprising me. “It makes me feel safe.”

Something primal and satisfied rumbled in my chest. I slid my arm around her waist, drawing her closer to my side. She fit there perfectly, like the space had been carved out just for her.

We continued past boutiques and restaurants, Kit occasionally stopping to peer into windows. I monitored our surroundings in overlapping zones—nearest threats, exit routes,sightlines to our security. But I also watched Kit, splitting my attention in a way I never had before.

Before her, vigilance had been singular, focused. Now, I found myself tracking both danger and delight with equal intensity.

When she stopped abruptly in front of a jewelry store display, I tensed before following her gaze. Her eyes had locked onto a delicate silver bracelet with tiny charms—a book, a whisk, a heart. The longing on her face was unmistakable, but she was already turning away, preparing to move on without mentioning it.

“Come on,” I said, guiding her toward the door with my hand at the small of her back.

“Gio,” she protested, “we don’t need to—”

“I want to.” I cut her off gently but firmly. “Besides, you deserve something nice.”

The shop was small but nice, with glass cases lining every wall. I nodded to Sal, who took up position outside the door, and Luca, who followed us in and stayed near the entrance. The saleswoman approached, her smile widening when she noticed the tattoos visible at my collar. Recognition flickered in her eyes—not of me specifically, but of what I represented. The Cristenello line that owned this city.

“The silver bracelet in the window,” I said, keeping an eye on Kit’s reflection in the glass cases. “The one with the charms.”

The woman fetched it quickly, laying it on a velvet cloth. Up close, the craftsmanship was evident—delicate links that caught the light, charms that moved with a satisfying weight.

Kit’s fingers hovered over it without touching. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Try it on,” I urged, watching as she hesitantly extended her wrist. The saleswoman fastened it, and Kit rotated her arm slowly, the silver bright against her skin. Through our bond, Ifelt her pleasure, her surprise at being given something purely ornamental.

“We’ll take it,” I remarked, not bothering to ask the price. Kit opened her mouth to protest, but I silenced her with a look that she met with a small, accepting smile. I paid quickly, and moments later, we were back on the sidewalk, a small gift bag added to our collection.

“You didn’t have to,” Kit said, but her fingers clutched the bag tightly.

“I wanted to,” I replied, my voice dropping to a register I used only with her. “Think of it as a bonding gift.”

Her cheeks flushed, and her lips curved in a pleased smile that satisfied the Alpha in me.

We continued down the block, Kit relaxed, bubbly, and light. It was universal knowledge that Omegas loved presents, and my mates happiness at the bracelet just confirmed it. I loved giving her things. Loved spoiling her. Through our bond, I could feel her contentment, like sunshine filtering through clouds.

We were approaching an intersection when Kit stopped so abruptly that I nearly reached for my weapon before registering her expression. She stood frozen, eyes wide and fixed on an empty storefront. A “For Lease” sign hung in the window, visible through the dust on the glass. The space beyond was bare—just wooden floors, white walls, and high ceilings with exposed beams.

But Kit wasn’t seeing the emptiness. Through our connection, I felt a surge of...possibility. Her mind was already filling the space, and I knew she was picturing display cases along the wall filled with goodies of her creation. A counter with stools, some tables and chairs, maybe even a couch. Her fingers twitched at her sides, as if already kneading dough or piping frosting.

“A bakery would be perfect here,” I murmured.

Her head snapped toward me, surprise widening her eyes. “How did you—”

I felt the corner of my mouth quirk up. I gently tapped the space between her eyebrows where a small crease had formed. “You get this look,” I explained, my voice softer than I typically allowed in public. “Right here. I’ve seen it before when you talk about baking.”

My fingers drifted to the bond mark on my throat, a gesture that had become second nature since her heat. The skin there was slightly raised, still sensitive. “Besides, I’ve got an extra super power now. The way you were looking at the space... you were measuring it out in your head, weren’t you?”

Kit nodded, a wistful smile crossing her face before she forced herself to look away from the storefront. I didn’t miss the slight droop of her shoulders as she prepared to move on, to put the dream aside like so many times before. Something in my chest tightened at her resignation.

“We should keep it in mind,” I said casually, already making a mental note to inquire about the lease. My arm slipped around her waist, pulling her close against my side as we continued toward The Raven, where my brother was waiting. “After we drop off Marco’s lunch, maybe we can swing back this way.”

Kit sighed, leaning into my embrace. “Omegas can’t own businesses, Gio. It’s not allowed.”

The resignation in her voice sparked something protective and defiant in me. Fuck their rules. Fuck their limitations. If my Omega wanted a bakery, she’d have the best goddamn bakery in the city. I was already thinking of workarounds, of shell companies and legal loopholes—anything to give her this small piece of independence she clearly craved.

---