Page 62 of Knot To Be
“You’re a damn sight more sane than your father,” he teases. “Welcome to my home, Mrs. Domino. Let’s see what we can do for you.”
Inclining my head in agreement, I step inside as he opens the door wide to accept us into the foyer.
“It’s a beautiful day. Are you against sitting outside?” he asks.
“Not at all,” I reply, knowing that most people have fans running in their backyard in the summer here.
It would be considered rude to allow your guests to melt.
The house is beautifully well appointed, and I smile as I see the exquisite wallpaper and window drapings. I’m almost sad to step out the back door not only because of the humidity, but also since this home obviously has a lot of care and attention placed in it.
There are photos and paintings hung up inside, and I wish I could explore some more. Papa’s home is cold and sterile with all its dark decor.
Forcing myself to smile, I’m frustrated that I can’t push the warmth into my eyes.
Lyle introduces everyone to us, and I commit everyone’s name and face to memory. I can’t allow my mind to wander today. Sitting in between a man named Grant Nisim and a sharp eyed alpha named Cooper Thornefield, I cross my legs and prepare to explain why I’m here.
“I would promise we don’t bite, but in that outfit, I think you might,” Cassidy teases me.
“I’m not even wearing a weapon today,” I say, shrugging off my jacket. Though there are fans all around us, the humidity is high. Not even rain can save us today. At least we’re under a nice pavilion in the garden. “The clothes are my warning label that being tiny doesn’t mean I’m a pushover.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Abbott, her alpha, muses.
“I doubt any of it is positive,” I sigh. “I’m sure we all have our sob stories about our families, especially when we run in the circles that we do. My father has always made it very clear I am to follow his orders, help clean up his messes when necessary, and support the narrative he tells. Last week, my wedding present from him was almost death.
“He didn’t know I’m bonded to Verona, and he stabbed her to remind me I will never be allowed happiness. While she bled in the pews, he alpha barked me to do whatever he wanted.”
Cassidy blinks hard, waiting to see if I’m serious.
“I will have a scar to prove it,” Vero murmurs. “I’m sure this sounds insane, but many of the things in Rosa and my life would have most people rocking in a corner by now. The ability to keep moving is a strength not everyone has.”
“Truth.” A girl with white-blonde hair sits on Cooper’s other side, and I remember her name is Nina. She’s Pack Thornefield’s omega. “I know better than anyone that the only way to survive is to remain quiet and obedient.”
“Yes. Those who are meant to love us unfortunately also know the best ways to hurt us,” I agree. “Over the last few weeks, I’ve realized I will never be free of my family. Verona was stopped in a store and almost dragged from it by my Aunt Genevra. If she had been successful, my father would have used my alpha against me. One might argue that putting miles between us may help…”
“But the mafia never forgets,” Silas murmurs. “Lyle, please make sure you didn’t bring your lawyer hat outside with you. I have a feeling you’re going to hate the rest of this conversation.”
“I knew when I offered to have this meeting in our home what I was getting into. Please continue,” Lyle says, amused.
I suppose discussing the potential mass murder of a family wouldn’t necessarily be on a lawyer’s bingo card.
“This still sounds like an internal family issue to me,” Grant says. His posture is stiff, reminding me of a police officer or someone in the military. “It’ll be messy for us to get involved.”
“I can understand that,” I reply, my trembling fingers hidden in my lap. “The other day, my pack and I sent a message to my father. Aunt Genevra is a gossip, and brings tidbits of information back to him. Her body was found in a dumpster outside of the store she was dragging my alpha from. This ‘internal matter’ is going to spill into the city. You can either help me keep this as quiet as possible, or watch Savannah’s streets run with blood.”
“We haven’t devolved to threats quite yet,” Silas admonishes. “I appreciate the level of detail you’re willing to offer though.”
“I have an idea for how to end this, but I will need help getting it off the ground,” Vero murmurs, pulling our attention.
Ciro’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t say a word. I trust Vero with my life. If she has something to offer, I know it’ll be worth listening to.
“Hit us with it,” Cassidy says, taking a sip of her tea.
I’m not comfortable drinking anything at another person’s home, so my glass is untouched. I’ve noticed Silas glance at it here and there. I’m aware it’s impolite, yet after being drugged too many times to count, I don’t trust anyone right now.
“Is there something wrong with your tea, Miss Rosalia?” Easton asks. He’s the last member of Pack Mayor, and my hand fists in consternation. Dammit. “Can I get you something else?”
Southern politics and pleasantries often go hand in hand, and breaking bread or enjoying refreshments together is part of this.
