Page 136 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

“But it wasn’t,” I say.

“No.” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “A month later, another request came. Small thing—overlooking an omega transport moving through our jurisdiction. Another payment, larger this time. Then another request. And another. By the time I met Heath face to face, I was already in too deep to walk away.”

Connor watches the confession with an unsettling stillness, those pale eyes never leaving the detective’s face.

“The evidence locker,” Stone prompts. “What happened to the physical evidence from the raids on Heath’s facilities?”

“Some of it disappeared completely,” the detective admits. “Documents, photographs, computer drives—anything that directly connected Heath to the operation. Other pieces I just…modified. Altered chain of custody documentation to create procedural issues that would make it inadmissible in court. Changed dates, locations, names in reports to introduce reasonable doubt.”

“And Caldwell?” I ask.

“I did the same,” the detective says before releasing a heavy breath. “Look, I didn’t want to do any of this. You have to believe me. But she has always been the one in control.”

I exchange a glance with Stone.

“What about the omega who dropped the information on this drive you stole?” I press, trying to keep my voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath my calm exterior.

The detective lets out another breath. “Heath said she was worth millions to the right buyers.”

I bite back a growl at hearing Hailey discussed as a commodity, forcing myself to remain professional, to see this through.

“I think,” the detective continues, “The omega’s new pack—your pack,” he adds, the recognition dawning in his eyes, “had interfered with Heath’s operations before. She wants you silenced.”

The confirmation of what we’d suspected sends a cold rage through me.

“I’ve told you everything,” the detective says, his voice weary now. “What happens next?”

Connor leans forward slightly, his movement subtle but immediately drawing all attention to him. “Next, you repeat everything you just told us,” he instructs, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steel, “for the official record. To my FBI associate. Every name, every detail, every connection to Heath’s operation.”

The detective eyes the FBI agent warily. “And then?”

“And then you enter protective custody,” Connor explains, “until Heath and her network are fully dismantled. You cooperate fully, testify as needed, and perhaps—perhaps—you eventually rebuild some semblance of a life free from both Heath’s influence and federal prison.”

“That’s it?” The detective sounds skeptical. “No…retribution? No punishment?”

Connor’s pale eyes narrow slightly, the only indication of emotion in his otherwise composed features. “Justice is what matters here, detective. Your punishment will come through the legal system you’ve spent your career supposedly upholding.”

I feel a flicker of surprise at how closely Connor’s words echo my thoughts from moments earlier. Perhaps the Ashgraves aren’t so different from us after all.

An hour later, the confession complete and recorded, the FBI agent leads the detective away in handcuffs, heading for the waiting federal vehicle outside. The detective looks back at us one last time, a mixture of resignation and curiosity in his expression.

“You’re not who I thought you were,” he says, his gaze lingering on Stone and me. “Who are you people, really?”

“Just concerned citizens,” I reply with cold satisfaction. “Making sure justice is served.”

Connor nods, lips quirking in what might be a smile. “Of course. Family first, always.” The way he says it suggests layers of meaning beyond the simple phrase. He pauses, those colorless eyes assessing me one final time. “You’re building something rare, you know. A pack with two omegas…” His gaze shifts to Stone. “Worth fighting for.”

He slaps Stone on the shoulder before heading off, his words lingering in my head.

Worth fighting for? My pack? Yes. Yes, it is.

Chapter 28

Hailey

It takes three days for the dust to settle after the detective’s arrest. Three days of statements, evidence collection, and tense meetings with FBI agents who look at us like we’re simultaneously witnesses, victims, and suspects in their investigation. I can feel their skepticism—why would a private pack go to such lengths to ensnare a corrupt detective? What’s our real interest in the case?

They don’t understand what it means to have your sense of safety shattered, your autonomy violated, your very identity used as a commodity. They can’t comprehend the burning need to ensure that what happened to me never happens to another omega.

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