Page 4 of Knotting else Matters

“About two hundred.”

I nearly choked. “Two hundred?”

Sophie’s cheeks flushed, a faint pink that only made her look more like a porcelain doll. “Well, you know how it is. Karl’s family is very… connected.”

“Connected? Soph, they’re not just rich. They’re rich-rich, huh?”

She shifted, her smile turning a little tight. “I don’t like to talk about money.”

Of course, she didn’t. She didn’t have to. When you’re an Omega, the world just treats you differently. Doors open, smiles widen, people fall over themselves to make you happy. Sophie’s life was a parade of attentive partners, all of them high-class Alphas who saw her as a prize. Even before Karl, her dates were always well-dressed, well-mannered, and well-off.

Meanwhile, my romantic history was a series of bad decisions on a budget.

Her phone buzzed on the marble bar top, and she glanced at it, her expression brightening instantly. “Sorry, it’s Karl.”

“Of course it is.”

She picked up, her voice going soft and sweet in a way I hadn’t heard in years. It was a sound I used to be able to make too—when I thought I’d found something that would last.

“Hi, love! Yeah, I’m with Liv now. No, everything’s fine. Yes, I’ll be back soon.” Her laughter was like a wind chime, light and carefree. A little bubble of sunshine.

She ended the call and set her phone down, smiling at me. “I should get going. Feel free to order anything from room service. It’s on the house.”

“Of course, it is,” I muttered, but I matched her smile.

“I’ll send someone to pick you up tomorrow at nine. Sharp.”

“Looking forward to it.”

She leaned in, wrapping me in another warm, soft hug. For a moment, I let myself sink into it, breathing in her floral scent, feeling the warmth she radiated so easily.

And then she was gone, a pastel blur of sunshine and laughter sweeping out of the bar, leaving behind the faint trace of her perfume and a world that suddenly felt a lot darker.

I finished my whiskey in one gulp and flagged down the bartender. “Another, please.”

If I was going to survive two weeks in this place, I was going to need it.

CHAPTER 2

Olivia

Bang. Bang. Bang.

My head throbbed in perfect time with the pounding on the door. A cruel, relentless rhythm that made me want to curl into a ball and whimper. I groaned, clutching the pillow over my head, but the knocking didn’t stop.

“Olivia!” A deep, muffled voice from the other side.

I squinted at my phone, which sat lifeless on the nightstand, a tiny traitorous brick because I’d forgotten to charge it. Again. My gaze snapped to the clock on the wall. Ten past nine.

“Shit!” I shot up, a move I instantly regretted as the room spun. Last night’s two drinks had somehow turned into five… or maybe seven? Details were fuzzy. But I was pretty sure I’d befriended the bartender and made some very passionate speeches about the importance of free pretzels.

“Just a minute!” I shouted, tripping out of bed, my voice coming out like gravel.

I grabbed the first clean jeans I could find, shoving myself into them while hopping around like an idiot, then yanked a plain white t-shirt over my head. My hair was a mess, a tangled black disaster, but I twisted it into a ponytail, crammed some sunglasses over my bloodshot eyes, and darted into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth with the speed of a panic-stricken cheetah, threw a splash of cold water on my face, and tried to look like a human being instead of a cautionary tale.

The knocking had turned into a steady, heavy thud. Whoever this was, they were persistent.

I flung the door open and immediately slammed into a wall.

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