Page 10 of Knot Your Pucking Secret

I hold up a hand, as if to stop him from spewing his bullshit to me. Realizing he can’t see the action through the phone, I finally interject.

“I’m going to have to stop you right there, Clive. I do not have a billion dollars.”

“A billion and a half.”

“Right. Well, whatever the figure. I don’t have it. In truth, I don’t even have half of that to purchase the team. As far as I am concerned, the only way I’ll ever step back into the role as head coach, and then inevitably as majority owner will be if you reinstate me. I will not buy something that is already mine. You know it. The rest of the board knows it, too. I made myself pretty clear the day I left. You know what is written in that Will. Technicality or no technicality.”

“Miss. Gilmore,” Clive begins, refraining from using my first name as an effort to pull rank over this conversation. He won’t. But I don’t miss the frustration in his tone. In fact, I like it. He deserves to have his feathers ruffled. He could sing like a damn hummingbird for all I give a damn because I will not change my mind on this. I don’t let him speak any further. It's not like he gave me that respect when it was my time to defend myself. To them, I was just another Omega. My fight wasn’t worth their time.

Funny how the tables turn. That now, it is them, more specifically,himpractically begging me for their time.

“No. The Cardinals had their chance to do what was right. You had the chance to do what was right. As for the fall out? That’s not my problem. You chose to stand by and listen while the news illegitimized me. Now, when you need me the most, you come crawling back with your tail between your legs because you made a mistake. Don’t lie to yourself, Roberts. You chose to see me as nothing more than my designation in those months I spent fighting for my position. A position Iearned. You saw theratings sky-rocket. You saw what good I did for you, and your wallet until the media decided to move on and pick on someone else. Smart business people don’t beg, Clive. Remember that.”

“Miss. Gilmore,” he says again, this time with a little more anger. But again, I don’t give him a moment to speak. I am so beyond done with this conversation.

“I am speaking. Behind that expensive suit of yours, is a coward. And I suppose there’s nothing more to it. You reap what you sow. We’re done here.”

I don’t bother with fake pleasantries before I pull the phone away from my ear, and hang up on the man. If you can even call him that.

Screw him and anyone else for thinking they could fuck me over this way.

I meant what I said. I won’t allow another Alpha to tear me down. This is me keeping that promise to myself. I get to decide what happens next in my story. Not them. Not anyone. Not anymore. And I sure as hell won’t be their fucking victim ever again.

Any of them.

Chapter Five

Lennon

Igive my uncle a smile as I open the door for him a few days after the girls headed home after their stay with me. To say it had been bittersweet watching them leave would be an understatement. I wanted nothing more than to get on that plane with them and head to Vadena, but alas, reality is a cunt.

“Hello, niece,” Brett says, giving me a bright smile as he heads into my kitchen like he has every other time he’s visited. He doesn’t hover awkwardly by the front door waiting to be invited in, he simply makes himself comfortable, crossing the room with an easy familiarity that catches me off guard.

“Uncle,” I reply with a smile. One I don’t think I’ve worn for the longest time.

It has been surprisingly nice getting to know Brett in the months since that game where he demanded to see me. I had been cautious at the beginning. I didn’t trust him or his intentions. When people pop into your life the way he did, the possibility of their intentions being questionable is high. Especially after everything Patrick taught me about putting blind faith in the people who claim to care about you. Partof me now wonders if this was his way of warning me what he had done. His guilty conscience rising to the surface of his philosophical parenting skills. As much as I hate recalling any of it, it’s the only parenting I’ve known.

Still, I let my walls come down, brick by reluctant brick. It wasn’t quick, and it certainly wasn’t easy, but somewhere between the awkward coffees, shared stories, and the occasional unsolicited life advice, Brett stopped feeling like a stranger who happened to share my blood, and started feeling like family. Through him, I got to know my parents. Or at least, the versions of them that still lived on in his memories.

Thanks to Brett, I have photos of them now. I find myself hanging onto every story, every little detail handed to me like a lifeline. This is more than just a journey of learning where I came from. Part of me thinks that through learning who they are, I’ll find pieces of myself in them somewhere. Maybe I’ll learn that I’m not just the result of the man who destroyed them. I want to know everything. What they liked. What they didn’t like. If they were in love as they look in the pictures. I’ve never seen anyone look at another quite like my fathers looked at my mother. Part of me hopes that through them, I could find that too. Not because I’m all of a sudden interested in finding a pack. After everything with Ars Mortis, I think I’m comfortable right here on my own. But I won’t lie and say that I don’t think about it sometimes. Finding someone or someones that treat me the way I deserve to be treated. Just like my mother did. If that’s even in the cards for me who knows?

“How have you been? I hope that place is treating you well.” I watch as he settles on one of the chairs at my dining table, loosening his tie a little as I grab two sodas from the fridge. Being a businessman himself, he knows firsthand what it’s like for Omegas like me in the corporate world. I appreciate his concern, but he’s learned by now that I know how to hold myown. Still, it’s nice to know that there’s someone who genuinely gives a damn how I’m treated. Especially after being the one to break the news to me that changed my life forever.

I shoot him a look over my shoulder that hopefully conveys ‘I got this’, before grabbing a glass each from the kitchen cupboard, and walking over to sit in the chair opposite him.

“You said you wanted to see me?” I ask, dreading that something else might have popped up because my luck meter has a personal vendetta against me, I swear.

Brett nods, the corner of his lips tilting into a gracious smile as I set the glass of soda on a coaster before him.

“Yes. I got a call the other day from the lawyers that handled your parents’ estate. Now that they know of your existence, they want you to sign some paperwork so they can begin processing your inheritance and organizing a transfer.”

I nod, eyeing the folder sitting in front of him. “Of course.”

Pulling a pen off the folder, Brett begins flicking through the documents, finding the signature lines that have been marked with yellow tabs. He slides the folder towards me, already expecting me to sign. I reach over and take the pen, hovering over the papers before me, but I hesitate, my eyes rolling over the information on the page. This will have to wait for another day. There’s way too much here to go over, and I want to get a thorough read through first to ensure everything on their end is correct. You’d be surprised how many lawyers make even the smallest error that could potentially cause years of back and forth I cannot afford.

I turn to face my uncle, his eyes curious as he takes a sip of his soda. “Thank you so much for everything, truly. I appreciate just how there you’ve been for me through all of this. I’ll read everything over and send them through to the lawyers, including yourself, once I’ve signed them. ”

Brett’s eyebrows pull together in confusion, though the expression is fleeting.