Page 14 of Knotting else Matters

“Something strong,” I muttered, earning a soft laugh from my father.

We walked down the grand hallway, the soft glow of the chandeliers casting warm light on the old portraits. And with every step, I tried to shake the shadow of sharp, laughing eyes and a voice that seemed to dance between a challenge and a dare.

CHAPTER 5

Olivia

Wow. Just… wow.

The mansion loomed ahead of us like something out of a glossy magazine—tall, elegant, and dripping with old-money charm. White columns framed the entrance, the massive arched windows glowing with warm, golden light, and the perfectly manicured gardens stretched out like a scene from a fairytale. A valet stepped forward as we pulled up, giving Sophie a polite nod and taking the car with a smooth, practiced ease.

I climbed out, craning my neck to take it all in. “Okay, so Karl’s family is not just rich. They’rerich-rich.Sophie, you did well for yourself.”

Sophie laughed, looping her arm through mine as she guided me up the wide stone steps. “It’s not about the money, Liv.”

“No, but it sure doesn’t hurt,” I muttered, glancing down at myself—my worn black jeans, scuffed boots, and a faded t-shirt that had seen better days. I felt like a stray cat wandering into a gala.

“I feel like a walking fashion disaster,” I groaned. “This place is like a palace, and I’m about to strut in like I’m on my way to a rock concert.”

Sophie’s smile never wavered. “If you want, I can lend you a shirt. Or… a dress?”

“A shirt’s fine. Something not advertising my questionable taste in music.”

She laughed, her fingers squeezing my arm gently as she led me through the grand foyer—marble floors, chandeliers dripping with crystal, the kind of place where even the air smelled expensive.

Sophie’s and Karl’s room was on the second floor, and I tried not to let my jaw drop when she led me inside. High, vaulted ceilings, a massive four-poster bed draped in rich emerald green sheets, and thick, elegant curtains framing tall windows that looked out over the glowing gardens. The furniture was a mix of old-world luxury and modern sleekness—carved wood, dark leather, and polished glass.

“Seriously, Soph, are you sure you didn’t marry a prince?” I quipped, trailing after her as she crossed the room to a set of double doors that led to a walk-in closet the size of my old apartment.

“This isn’t even the master suite,” Sophie replied, a hint of embarrassment in her tone. “But it’s cozy. I love it.”

“Cozy,” I muttered, brushing my fingers over a rack of designer shirts that probably cost more than my rent.

Sophie rifled through the hangers, finally pulling out a sleek black dress. Simple, elegant, the kind of thing you could wear to a fancy dinner without looking overdressed.

I raised an eyebrow. “Sophie, that’s not a shirt.”

“It’s just… it’s nice,” she admitted, holding it out with a hopeful smile.

“Nice? It’s ‘I’m the rich aunt at the family wedding’ nice. What are you—” I stopped, something in her expression making my stomach twist. “Sophie. What did you do?”

Her smile wavered, and she glanced down at the dress, her fingers twisting the silky fabric nervously. “I, um… I invited Mom.”

A cold wave washed over me, and I stepped back like the dress was a snake. “You invited Lena? And you waited until zero hour to tell me?”

“Liv, please.” Sophie’s voice was soft, pleading. “She’s still our mom. I thought… maybe this could be a chance to fix things. To… to have a fresh start.”

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “A fresh start? That’s what you think this is? Sophie, she and I don’t have ‘fresh starts.’ We have cold wars.”

“She wants to see you. I know she does.”

“No. She wants to see you. I’m just the extra baggage she’ll have to tolerate to get to her perfect Omega daughter.”

“Liv…” Sophie’s eyes were wide, her expression desperate. “Please. Just for tonight. Put on the dress, come downstairs, and let’s have a nice dinner. It can be your mating gift to me.”

“I already got you a gift,” I muttered, arms crossed tight over my chest. “It’s sitting in a nice little box with a bow on top—an air fryer.”

Sophie’s laugh was a mix of relief and nerves. “And I love it. But please, Liv… please do this for me.”

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