Page 59 of Knot Their Safe Haven

So many years. So many opportunities to make this work, and he was the leader in all of this. If he didn’t take a stance, Adyani and Malcom wouldn’t either. He was the Alpha leader in their group, and his hesitation was influencing the others.

And that was why we kept dancing this repetitive dance that lead to me wasting twenty fucking years and almost led me straight to my early grave.

I’m tired of being this broken record begging for affection.

Crying out to be loved as if I’m not worth it.

No more of this bullshit…because they’re never going to be my safe haven…

With all the innocent confusion I could muster, I delivered the killing blow:

"Who the hell are you?"

The words dropped into the room like grenades, and I watched the explosion emotions ripple across Knox's face.

Confusion, hurt, rage, disbelief—all in the space of a heartbeat.

It’s the most emotion I’ve witnessed since Icarus’ birth.

"Velvet?" His voice cracked on my name. "It's me. It's Knox."

I tilted my head, blinking slowly, maintaining the confused expression while internally savoring the devastation I was causing.

"I'm sorry, should I...um…should I know you?" My heart ached to be so cruel and yet there was this odd sensation brewing in the debts of it all.

As if this was some sort of payback my soul was begging for after years that have gone down to drain.

Malcolm stepped forward, his medical instincts overriding emotional shock.

"She might be experiencing post-traumatic amnesia. It's not uncommon after severe head trauma combined with oxygen deprivation?—"

"I don't have amnesia," I said clearly, letting a hint of irritation color my voice. That level of annoyance that would grind my gears in the midst of meetings that took too much of my time. "I remember everything until the accident,” I huff. “I just don't understand why there are strangers in my room."

"Strangers?" Adyani's voice was small, wounded. "Velvet, habibti, it's us. We've known each other for?—"

"I'm sorry," I interrupted, looking to Alessandro with perfectly crafted uncertainty. "Are these people supposed to be here? Are they your pack members or something?” He shakes his head immediately, prompting a pout of frustration from meas I mutter, “I don't feel comfortable with people I don't know seeing me like…well, this? I guess you’re an exception…I think. You’re going to explain things, yes?"

“Certainely.” Alessandro's hand tightened slightly on mine—approval or warning, I couldn't tell. But he played his part flawlessly. "These are... associates who were concerned about your welfare," he said diplomatically. "But if you're uncomfortable, they can leave."

"Wait," Knox moved forward, and both twins shifted subtly, positioning themselves between him and the bed. "Velvet, this isn't funny. Stop this game."

"Game?" I let confusion shade into offense. "I'm sorry, sir, but I've just woken up from apparently major surgery after getting in some terrorist accident or what not, and I have no idea who you are or why you think you have the right to accuse me of playing games. Jeez, never met such rude strangers before."

"Twenty years," he said desperately. "We've known each other for twenty plus years. The gym. Your Haven. Our—" He stopped, unable to say 'son' in front of strangers. It was a bit insulting regardless, because this proved the truth. He still was going to keep things under wraps as long as it protected his reputation.

And she hated that.

I looked at Alessandro, letting fear creep into my expression.

"Why is this man talking about twenty years? I wouldn’t spend that a lot of time with a stranger? And why does he know about my Haven?"

"Perhaps," Alexis's voice cut through like silk, "the three of you should give our Omega some space to recover. The trauma has clearly affected her memory, and aggressive confrontation won't help."

"She's not your—" Malcolm started.

"The paperwork says otherwise," one of the twins—Dante or Damon, I couldn't tell—said cheerfully. "Legal and binding. So unless you have documentation that supersedes medical necessity claiming…you’re out of luck. We could do this the hard way and call security.”

"This is insane," Adyani breathed. "Velvet, please. You know us. You know me. The roses, the calls from Dubai, everything we?—"