Page 63 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

“I renounce the name, the estate, and the obligations.” Each word feels like shedding a layer of skin that never fit right. “I walk away clean. You pay me to disappear.”

A muscle twitches in Gregory’s jaw, the first crack in his composed mask. “This is absurd.”

“Is it?” I tap the document with my index finger. “You want to control me through inheritance? Let’s cut out the manipulation and get to the point.”

Gregory exhales slowly through his nose. “Whatever grievance you think you have?—”

“This isn’t about grievances.” I cut him off, my heart hammering. “This is about my freedom. I don’t want your name. I don’t want your legacy or your expectations. I just want your money.”

Gregory’s face hardens. “You sound like your mother.”

“Apt, don’t you think?” I meet his eyes without flinching. “Augustus married her for money. You rejected her for money. Let’s end this the way it began. With money.”

Harrison adjusts his glasses, frowning at the document. “These terms are outrageous. No court would?—”

“We’re not going to court,” Milo interrupts. “This is a private arrangement between family members.”

Gregory’s fingers drum once on the table in a rare sign of agitation. “And if I refuse?”

“Then we go public.” I refuse to back down. “With everything.”

“You have nothing,” Simon sneers, but uncertainty flickers across his face.

Dominic reaches into his pocket, places a small recording device on the table, and pushes play.

Gregory’s voice fills the room, the recording crystal clear: “Chloe, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll be direct. I’m not your uncle. I’m your father.”

Simon’s mouth falls open. Harrison stiffens, his head swiveling to stare at Gregory, who sits motionless, his face draining of color.

Dominic stops the recording. “We have the entire conversation from our last visit here. Every word.”

Silence follows, and I can almost hear the gears turning in Gregory’s head as he calculates the damage, the scandal, the cost to his reputation.

Harrison rallies, his chest puffing up. “You recorded a private conversation. That’s inadmissible?—”

“In court, perhaps,” Nathaniel says, calmly folding his hands on the table. “But the court of public opinion plays by different rules.”

He begins laying out notarized documents on the table, arranging them in a neat line. “Falsified birth records. Estate misdirection. Concealment of paternity.”

Gregory doesn’t read the documents. He doesn’t need to. We both know they’re real.

“Vivian hid your real identity?—”

“You’ve been paying off my mother since we left the Sinclairs,” I cut in, “and you hired Simon to stalk me in college. You wouldn’t have done either unless you already suspected who I was to you.”

Simon pushes away from the table, his chair rolling back. “This is ridiculous. You can’t?—”

“Be quiet, Simon.” Gregory doesn’t even look at him, but Simon’s mouth snaps shut.

Harrison leans toward Gregory, whispering in his ear.

Gregory’s expression turns cold and closed off. “What do you want?”

“It’s all outlined in those papers.” I straighten my spine. “I want a clean break and financial compensation for what you stole from me. ”

“I would have given you everything.” Anger cracks his controlled veneer. “Status. Wealth?—”

“But not the mother I could have had if you hadn’t rejected your true mate.

” My chest burns, anger building beneath my ribs.

“Not the years I spent wanting to die after you threw me out of your pack. Not the nightmares of what Louie Santaros tried to do because you weren’t there to protect me.

The only thing you can give me is this . ”

Dominic’s hand finds my thigh, his pride flooding our bond.

Nathaniel places another document on the table. “This includes a non-disclosure agreement. Once signed, Chloe agrees never to speak publicly about her paternity or any Sinclair family matters.”

Harrison reaches for it, scanning the contents with a scowl. “And the recording?”

“Destroyed upon payment,” Milo confirms. “Along with all copies.”

Gregory studies me, searching for weakness. “You would erase your own history for money?”

“I’m not erasing anything. I’m choosing my future.” I drop my hand to my lap to clasp Dominic’s. “And if anything happens to me, or to anyone I care about after this deal is done, the NDA becomes void. Everything goes to all major networks in the country, and it will rip apart the Sinclair pack.”

I let that sink in before continuing. “You can’t scrub this clean, Gregory. Not even you have that much power.”

Harrison whispers urgently to Gregory again, who raises a hand to silence him.

“I’ll need time to consider?—”

“No,” I cut him off. “You decide right now.”

Dominic’s free hand hovers over the recording device again in a silent threat.

Gregory’s lips flatten into a thin line, the weighing of options, the assessment of risk versus reward. It’s the same expression he wore when deciding which companies to acquire, which rivals to destroy.

Simon watches with growing horror as he realizes Gregory might actually agree. His hands grip the arms of his chair, knuckles white with tension.

The moment stretches, taut as a wire ready to snap. My pulse pounds in my ears, but I keep my face neutral, refusing to show the fear twisting my stomach.

This is the moment that determines whether I walk out of here free or remain shackled to the Sinclair legacy forever .

“You’re spiteful,” Gregory says at last, each word aimed to hurt. “Just like your mother.”

The barb should sting. Maybe it does. But what I feel most is grief for the woman Vivian might have been if hate hadn’t blinded her. She taught me to survive, though.

I lift my chin. “Then I guess I learned from the best. But I’m not the one being used by men in power.”

Gregory’s fingers tap once on the document before him before he turns to Harison, cutting me out just like he did as a child. “Draft the paperwork.”

Simon erupts, his palm slamming against the polished table with enough force to rattle the water glasses. “What? You can’t be serious! After everything I’ve done to get us here?”

Gregory doesn’t even acknowledge him. “Harrison, make sure the NDA is ironclad.”

Simon’s face flushes crimson, the color climbing from his neck to his hairline. “You’re just giving up? Letting her walk away?”

“She’s not worth the scandal.” Gregory’s dismissal cuts through Simon’s protest, cold and final.

Simon rises from his chair, his body trembling with rage. “But she’s mine! ”

The possessive fury in those two words sends ice down my spine. I’ve never seen Simon like this, not even when he killed Louie. Now, his careful mask is stripped away to reveal something ugly and twisted beneath.

“Mr. Sullivan,” Milo begins, lifting his hands in a calming gesture, “perhaps we should?—”

Simon lunges across the table toward me, hands outstretched like claws. “You ungrateful little?—”

Dominic pulls me backward, his body blocking mine as Nathaniel shoves Simon with enough force to knock him off balance, sending him stumbling into a side table. A vase crashes to the floor, water and flowers spilling across the carpet.

Simon rights himself, chest heaving as his crazed gaze fixes on me. “You think you can hide behind them? They can’t protect you forever.”

The conference room door bursts open, and two security guards rush in, drawn by the commotion. They take in the scattered papers, the broken vase, and Simon’s contorted face.

Gregory flicks his wrist. “Take him out of here.”

The guards move toward Simon, who backs away, his hands raised.

“Don’t touch me.” He goes still, hatred radiating off him in waves. “This isn’t over, Chloe. You’re going to regret this. ”

One of the guards reaches for his arm, but Simon jerks away, knocking over a chair.

“I gave you everything,” he snarls at me. “I was supposed to?—”

“You were supposed to obey.” Gregory doesn’t even blink. “Escort him out.”

The guards grab Simon’s arms. He struggles, his face contorting as they drag him toward the door.

“You’ll come crawling back,” he shouts over his shoulder. “When you tire of not having a real Alpha, I’ll be waiting!”

The door closes behind them, cutting off his shouts.

The room falls quiet except for my rapid breathing. Dominic’s hand rests at the small of my back, steady and warm. Nathaniel moves to stand beside me, his presence solid and reassuring.

Harrison adjusts his glasses, clearly rattled. “I’ll… prepare the documents.”

Gregory rises from his chair, buttoning his suit jacket. His face has returned to its usual mask of control, as if the past minutes never happened.

“The money will be transferred once the papers are signed,” he says, back to being all business. “I expect this to be the end of our association, Chloe.”

I straighten my spine. “That’s what I want, too.”

He studies me for a moment longer, and I catch a flicker of regret in his expression. “You could have had everything.”

I take my Alphas’ hands. “I already do.”

He turns to Harrison. “My office. Now.”

They leave without another word, the door closing behind them.

The sudden drain of tension from my body nearly buckles my knees. Dominic’s arm wraps around my waist, supporting me.

His breath warms my ear. “You did it.”

I lean into his strength. “ We did it.”

Nathaniel gathers our documents. “It’s not over yet. Simon won’t let this go.”

The reality of his words settles over me. Simon’s rage wasn’t just the tantrum of a spoiled man denied what he wanted. It was the fury of someone who believes something has been stolen from him, something he’s entitled to.

Me.

Dominic rubs soothing circles on my back. “Without the Sinclairs hiding him, the police will be able to arrest him.”

“If the Sinclairs don’t take a more permanent step to stop him from talking,” Nathaniel says.

Milo closes his briefcase with a decisive click. “I suggest we continue this at my office. The paperwork will take a few hours to prepare. ”

“Sounds good,” I say, exhausted as the adrenaline that carried me through the confrontation ebbs away, leaving me shaky.

Nathaniel’s hand finds mine, his fingers intertwining with my own. “Ready to go?”

I take in the conference room one last time before turning away. “Yes, I’m ready.”

We walk out together, my Alphas flanking me. No one speaks on the elevator ride down. No one needs to. The bond between us pulses with shared triumph and relief.

As we step out onto the sunlit sidewalk, I inhale. The air tastes different, filled with possibility. Behind me, the towering glass of Sinclair & Associates reaches toward the sky, but its shadow no longer touches me.

For the first time in my life, I am truly free.

But as Nathaniel makes arrangements for us to meet Milo at his office, I can’t shake the memory of Simon’s face twisted with rage, his words echoing in my mind.

This isn’t over .