Page 16 of Knotting on Heaven's Door

She cackled and pushed off the couch. “You’re the worst liar, by the way.”

“Get out, Mila.”

Laughing all the way, she headed for the door, pausing only to wiggle her fingers at me. “Enjoy your aspirin, boss. And maybe... I'll bring you some ice. You’ll need it.”

The door clicked shut behind her.

I groaned and pressed the heel of my palm to my forehead. I needed to get my head straight before Sebastian arrived. According to Mila’s email, he was scheduled for his induction at ten—standard safety walkthrough, equipment orientation, basic HR policies. Nothing exciting, but enough to keep him out of my sight for an hour or two.

My smartwatch beeped, a soft vibration followed by a tiny chime.

9:02 a.m.

Pill time.

I stood, moving to the cabinet tucked behind my desk—camouflaged to look like a file drawer, but inside, it was stocked with tiny amber bottles and neatly labeled compartments.

I pulled out the first container:Regulex. Morning dose. Two pills.

It was a hormone stabilizer, formulated for omegas who had gone through traumatic bond severances. It dulled the spike of instinct—made the world quieter, less overwhelming. I’d been on it since the day Adam died.

Next cameCortanine, one pill—mood regulation. Designed to suppress emotional overflow, keep my scent levels steady. It helped when my stress got high or when my body tried to betray me with heat symptoms I didn’t have the luxury to indulge.

The last bottle wasSuppresen-X,taken once a week—butthe lingering aftereffects hit hardest in the morning. It was the strongest suppressant on the market. Bitter, chalky, but effective. No scent. No heat. No bond drive. Just numb, clean clarity.

I swallowed the pills dry, barely flinching at the familiar scratch down my throat.

This was the routine. My armor. The way I stayed in control. No slips. No emotions. No messy instincts hijacking my brain every time an Alpha with a nice smile said my name a certain way.

LikeSebastianhad.

I closed the cabinet, pressed my palms flat against the desk, and took a slow breath. I was fine. Focused. Professional.

And in less than an hour, I was going to look him in the eye like I hadn’t just come undone beneath him.

Easy.

I took in a deep breath, held it, and let it out slow.

One day at a time.

That was all I could do. That’s how I’d built this company from nothing. That’s how I survived losing Adam. That’s how I got through every disaster wedding, entitled Alpha client, and sleepless double-booked weekend.

I’d deal withthis—Sebastian Laurente, walking temptation, one-night mistake turned kitchen liability—the same way.

One day at a time.

It wasn’t even the first time someone had stuck around longer than they were supposed to. Two years ago, I’d met this Beta at a bar out of town. Cute, decent jawline, talked a little too much about the IPA selection, but it had been a long week and I’d needed the distraction.

One night.

Except he didn’t get the memo.

For the next three months, he sent flowers. Roses. Peonies.Once, a weird succulent arrangement with a note that said,“Because you’re unkillable.” It would’ve been sweet if it hadn’t beenrelentless. I ignored every text. He still emailed twice. Only stopped when Mila told him—very sweetly but very firmly—that I wasn’t interested.

Some people didn’t know how to take silence as an answer.

I shook the memory off and opened my laptop.

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