Page 166 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

“The trouble this has causedyou,” I echo, disbelief coloring my tone despite my attempt at detachment. “Do you hear yourself?”

“People are asking questions,” Ma hisses, dropping any pretense of pleasantries. “Old friends. The authorities. Our names were never supposed to be connected to any of this, but since your little public confession, we’ve been under scrutiny. Your father lost his job. We’ve lost the house. All because you couldn’t keep your mouthshut.”

The naked self-interest, the complete absence of concern for what I endured, should hurt. In some distant way, perhaps it does—the final confirmation that I never had parents in any meaningful sense of the word, only caretakers motivated by convenience and financial gain. But mostly I feel a strange, calm clarity, as if the last piece of a long-puzzling picture has finally clicked into place.

I reach into my bag, removing the envelope I prepared before leaving home. MoneyI’veearned from working with the omegas at the rehab center. Without speaking, I slide it across the table toward them.

“What’s this?” Pa asks suspiciously, making no move to take it.

“Open it.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he picks up the envelope and withdraws its contents—five thousand dollars in cash, crisp newbills arranged in neat stacks, along with a printed document. His eyes widen at the money, then narrow as he scans the accompanying paper.

“What the hell is this?” he demands, voice rising enough to draw glances from nearby diners.

“That,” I explain calmly, “is exactly what you sold me for. Five thousand dollars. The going rate for a healthy young omega, apparently. And that document is a copy of the police report from the raid on the facility where I was held, which includes detailed transaction records—including your names, signatures, and bank account information where the payment was deposited.”

My mother snatches the paper from my father’s suddenly nerveless fingers, her face draining of color as she reads. “This is—you can’t?—”

“I already did,” I interrupt. “That’s a copy. The originals are with the FBI task force investigating Heath’s network, including all accomplices and enablers. Which, as it happens, includes parents who knowingly sold their children into trafficking.”

My father’s expression shifts from shock to anger, his hand closing around the cash as if to prevent its escape. “You’d turn on your own blood? After everything we did for you?”

I stand, a strange sense of power flowing through me as I tower over them for the first time in my life. In this moment, I channel everything I’ve learned from my pack—Jax’s imposing posture, Stone’s implacable calm, Ren’s cutting precision, Finn’s unflinching authenticity.

“You stopped being my blood the moment you took that money,” I tell them, my voice steady and clear. “And to be honest, I haven’t thought about you since I left that horrid place. You have beenirrelevantto my life, my healing, my happiness. The only reason I came today was to close this chapter completely.”

“You ungrateful little—” Pa begins, half-rising from his seat.

“I wouldn’t,” I advise quietly. “My pack is here, watching. And they’re considerably less restrained than I am.”

His gaze darts around the diner, finally locating the four men watching our interaction with focused intensity from their distant booth. The recognition of alpha presences—powerful, protective, and clearly aligned with me—deflates his momentary aggression.

“Keep the money,” I continue. “Consider it the last transaction we’ll ever have. I’ve repaid the exact amount you accepted for me, which means any supposed debt between us is settled. We’re done. Don’t contact me again. Don’t approach me in public if you see me. Don’t speak my name. As far as I’m concerned, I have no parents.”

“You think you’re better than us now,” Ma hisses, her voice tight with spite. “With your fancy clothes and rich alphas. But we know what you really are. Where you come from.”

“Yes,” I agree simply. “I do know where I come from. And I know where I’m going, which is far more important.” I rise, adjusting my scarf as I prepare to leave. “Goodbye. I hope you’re prepared for what comes next with the investigation. I’ve heard the penalties for omega trafficking conspiracy are quite severe these days.”

I walk away without looking back, my steps steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my system. The bell above the door chimes as I exit into the cool evening air, filling my lungs with deep breaths that taste of freedom and finality.

A few seconds later, my pack emerges from the diner, moving swiftly to surround me with their presence. Stone reaches for me, instinctively offering comfort, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

“Not yet,” I manage, my voice shaky now that the confrontation is over. “I need a minute. I need to just…process.”

He nods understanding, respecting my space but remaining close enough to offer security. The others form a loose circle around me, providing both protection and privacy from any curious passersby.

Finn breaks away briefly, returning moments later with a paper cup that steams in the evening chill. “You’re a badass,” he says simply, pressing the hot chocolate into my hands. “Drink your cocoa, badass.”

The unexpected comment, so perfectly Finn in its blend of support and irreverence, breaks through the last of my composed facade. A laugh escapes me, releasing the tension I’ve been carrying since the letter arrived. Once started, I can’t seem to stop. Laughter flows from me in waves that eventually transform into tears, the emotional release I couldn’t allow myself in front of my parents finally finding expression.

This time, when Stone reaches for me, I step willingly into his embrace, allowing the hot chocolate to be taken from my trembling hands as I’m surrounded by pack scent and warmth, by the genuine family I found after the false one failed me so completely.

“You were amazing,” Jax murmurs against my hair. “So strong, so clear.”

“Did you see their faces when she stood up to them?” Finn adds, his voice vibrating with vicarious triumph. “I thought her dad was going to swallow his tongue.”

“I was calculating how quickly I could reach them if he tried anything,” Stone admits, his hand a warm weight on my shoulder.

---