Page 32 of Twin Babies for the Silver Fox (Happy Ever Alpha Daddies #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Knox

The crowd is suffocating.

The kitchen’s packed wall to wall, steam rising, plates flying, orders piling up faster than we can get them out. There’s flour on the floor, syrup on the prep counter, and my patience is hanging by a thread.

One photo. One dumb video. That’s all it took.

Now, The Marrow’s crawling with influencers, foodies, sports bros, and women in old LA Knights jerseys like it’s game day again. They’ve got their phones out, filming, tagging, live streaming like this is content instead of my restaurant.

I hate it.

This place, this whole damn life, was supposed to be a reset. I walked away from all this noise. I chose quiet. Purpose. A kitchen where the food came first.

And now?

Now it’s a sideshow.

The worst part?

Josie’s gone.

I saw her face right before she slipped out. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. That look in her eyes was enough, like she didn’t recognize me anymore.

That one stings.

But how can I blame her? She doesn’t want to be in the middle of this.

This is a flashbulb.

A highlight reel.

A fucking hashtag.

I slam a plate down on the pass harder than I mean to. “Pick up on twelve!”

No one moves fast enough.

Nova’s plating like a machine, Wes is sweating bullets, and Gracie’s got this pale look like she’s one more TikToker away from throat punching someone.

And still, they keep coming.

“Is he here?”

“Can we get a picture?”

“Tell him I brought my original jersey!”

Some jackass is narrating a livestream over the pass. “Yeah, it looks like Knox isn’t doing so well now that his little girlfriend is gone.”

I drop my knife.

Pick it up.

Breathe.

Focus.

But my hands are tight. My skin itches with the heat of it, the wrongness of all of this. This isn’t what I came here to do. It sure as hell isn’t what Josie signed up for.

I bark out, “Wes, take over for five.”

He nods and doesn’t ask. I’m grateful for that.

I shove through the back door and let the cold hit me like a slap.

The air is crisp, sharp enough to cut. I bend forward, hands on my knees, and try to remember how to breathe.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

I kick the dumpster hard. Metal clatters against brick. It doesn’t help.

I scrub a hand down my face and try to clear the buzzing in my head.

Get it together, Knightly.

Five deep breaths, two flexes of my jaw, and I head back in.

Nova’s in the front now, trying to herd people like cattle. She’s got that deceptively polite smile on. Tight and professional, which means she’s this close to losing it. She clocks me immediately, eyes narrowing as I step onto the floor.

“Do not murder anyone,” she mutters as I pass.

“No promises,” I growl.

Then I see it, table seven, phones up like they’re filming a cooking show. One guy’s halfway to climbing onto his chair to get a better angle.

I make my way over, ignoring the woman trying to touch my arm as I pass.

“Hey,” I snarl. “You filming something?”

The guy grins like he’s spotted Bigfoot in the wild. “Dude, yeah, my followers are eating this up. Can I get you saying something to the camera?”

“You can get your phone off my line.”

He laughs, thinks I’m joking. “Come on, man. You used to be on camera all the time, don’t pretend you’re shy now.”

Something in me snaps.

I lean closer. “This is a restaurant. Not a theme park. Not a meet and greet. Not your personal content farm.”

His smile falters.

“Put the phone away or get the hell out.”

He blinks, caught off guard. “Whoa. Okay. Chill.”

“I’m not going to chill. You’re filming my team without consent, invading the space we built with your bullshit. You want a selfie? Go stand in front of the damn chalkboard menu like everyone else. You want a show? Go home and stream old games.”

I can feel eyes on me now. Phones turning, murmurs rippling. Doesn’t matter. I’ve already gone too far to walk it back.

Nico appears at my side like she’s been teleported in.

“Everything okay over here?”

The guy raises his hands. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“She’s going to walk you out now,” I say, stepping back.

Nico raises a brow at me as she starts ushering him toward the door. “Let’s take a breather, sir. I’m happy to comp your coffee.”

“Wow,” I hear him mutter, “Knox Knightly’s a real asshole in person.”

Good. Let them post that.

I turn back toward the kitchen, the fire still burning in my chest, but now it’s tinged with shame. Gracie’s watching me through the pass. Wes looks like he wants to sink into the floor.

Even Nova glances back over her shoulder with that expression I haven’t seen from her in years. What the hell was that?

And honestly? I don’t know.

I just know I miss the quiet. I miss Josie.

And I’m starting to wonder if the second the spotlight found its way back in… I lost both.

Later, when the rush finally dies down, I slam the office door shut and let the silence hit me like a freight train.

It’s the first real quiet I’ve had since I woke up next to Josie, and I hate how much I needed it.

I sink into the chair behind the desk, elbows on my knees, hands gripping my hair like I can root the chaos out by force.

This isn’t what I wanted.

This isn’t why I built The Marrow.

I left that other life behind for a reason. The cameras, the noise, the constant performative bullshit. It chewed me up for a decade, and I barely crawled out. And now it’s leaking in again, through the cracks, through one damn picture.

I should’ve shut it down faster.

I should’ve protected Josie better.

The memory of her face when she slipped out earlier flashes in my mind again. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes did. All that brightness, gone. Like the light dimmed right in front of me.

Because of me.

There’s a knock.

I don’t answer.

The door creaks open anyway.

Jace .

He steps inside, grinning like an idiot, sunglasses pushed up on his head, phone in hand. He looks around like he’s impressed. “Place is blowing up, man. You seeing these numbers? Views are insane. You’re viral on like six platforms. Now Silver Peak is fun!”

I look up slowly. “What the hell did you post?”

He raises a brow. “Just the stuff from the other day. You, doing your thing. The fans love it. I didn’t think it’d go that crazy.”

I stand up.

Jace steps back a little.

“You didn’t think . That’s the problem.” I shake my head. “You didn’t care what it would do to this place.”

He scoffs. “Come on, man. I put you back on the map.”

“I didn’t want to be on the map .”

His eyes narrow. “Bullshit. You miss it. You miss being seen. The control. The high. Don’t act like you hated it all.”

“I did hate it all,” I snap. “And I worked my ass off to build something real here. Something quiet. Safe. And now it’s a circus. You turned it into a fucking brand.”

He crosses his arms. “You think I did this for me ? I was trying to help. You’re out here hiding in the woods like you’re done with the world. People still care, Knox. They still want to see you win.”

“I don’t care if they do.” I step closer. “You don’t get it. I’m not trying to be anyone’s redemption arc . I only wanted a kitchen and a quiet life. I wanted…”

Her .

I bite it back.

He sees it anyway. “This is about Josie?”

“It’s about all of it.”

Jace lets out a quiet laugh. “I get it, man. You wanted a clean break. But it’s hard to stay in the shadows when people still remember your light. Just… don’t kid yourself about how visible you’ve always been.”

I stare at him. I didn’t ask him to do this. He helped bring the spotlight back to me. “You should go.”

He meets my eyes. Doesn’t say anything for a long beat.

Then he nods, tight. “Yeah. I guess I should.”

He heads for the door, then pauses. “I really was just trying to help.”

And then he’s gone.

The door clicks shut behind him, and I’m alone again.

The silence feels different this time.

Heavier.

Like regret.