Page 64 of Knot Their Safe Haven

"I apologize for not being there when you wake. Your Haven required immediate attention after three attempted infiltrations in the past forty-eight hours."

My stomach clenches.

Three attacks while I've been unconscious, vulnerable.

I bet the Haven is going under with my absence…

"All unsuccessful," he continues, as if reading my mind through time and space. "The twins—Dante and Damon—have a particular talent for discouraging unwanted visitors. One gentleman is still trying to explain to police why he was found suspended from the fire escape in his underwear."

Despite everything, I snort.

The Corleone twins clearly have some inherited flair for dramatic problem-solving.

"Alexis is currently reviewing your expansion proposals. She's made some security modifications that await your approval—nothing is being implemented without your consent. She wanted me to tell you the medical facility integration is, and I quote, 'fucking brilliant for someone without formal architectural training.'"

He shifts, pulling something from off-screen. Multiple spreadsheets, color-coded and annotated.

"Dante has your current residents relocated to our safe house temporarily. They believe they've won a wellness retreat—spa treatments, private therapy, gourmet meals. Morale has never been higher, according to Kamari, who has appointed herself social coordinator."

Kamari.

Relief floods through me, knowing in odd times like these she does step up to try to help out at the Safe Haven with Amelia and the others. Astraea should be on tour with her men, so even if with everything going on and being reported media wise, she’s probably across the country and wouldn’t assist.

Icarus must have also returned back now that I’m at least awake and well.

"We've also handled the government inquiries. Amazing what properly directed donations can accomplish. Your certification is not only secure but expedited for three additional locations."

He pulls out a newspaper, and my eyes widen.

The Omega Times, their sensationalist font screaming:

"REBEL QUEEN OFFICIALLY CLAIMED?"

"The news broke twelve hours ago. Someone at the hospital leaked your pack registration. They don't know to whom, yet, but speculation runs wild. Knox has given fourteen interviews insisting it's a misunderstanding. Malcolm released a medical statement that manages to say nothing in three paragraphs. Adyani has been…silent."

Something flickers in his expression—satisfaction or anticipation.

"The media wants a statement, naturally. We're controlling the narrative for now, but eventually, you'll need to decide what truth to tell." He pauses, those impossible eyes holding the camera. "Which brings me to why you're here instead of Munich."

He stands, moving around my desk with predatory grace.

The camera must be propped somewhere, because it captures him fully—six feet three inches of controlled power in expensive wool.

"This cottage belongs to the twins. Built by their grandfather as a hunting lodge, though I doubt he envisioned bulletproof glass and military-grade security. You're safe here. Free to recover without cameras or questions or three Alphas who couldn't sign their names when it mattered."

The bitterness in his voice surprises me.

He's been so controlled and careful. But discussing them—or particularly their cowardice—cracks his polish.

"When you're strong enough, when you're ready, there's a deck that overlooks the valley. I'll be there to ask you properly, face to face, if you want to try this. Us. The pack that's already half in love with you despite meeting you once."

He returns to the chair, leaning forward like he's about to share a secret.

"But I need you to understand something, Velvet. Tu es le personnage principal de cette nouvelle aventure. Je veux que chaque instant soit exaltant pour toi."

You're the main character of this new adventure. I want every moment to be exhilarating for you.

"No more accepting scraps. No more waiting for others to decide your worth. From now on, every step is yours to take."