Chapter 3 Knox
The Olivetti estate sprawls across ten acres of Nashville countryside, a fortress hidden behind stone walls thick enough to withstand a siege. Gardens manicured to perfection. And beneath it all, in the converted wine cellars, a business that would make our ancestors roll in their graves.
Or applaud. Depends on which ancestor you ask.
I'm in the main study with Dante, Marco, and Gio, three of my most trusted men, when I catch movement through the window. A black car pulls up the circular drive, and my jaw tightens.
Dr. fucking Peters.
Again.
He's dropping Isabella off. Again. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail, her gym bag slung over one shoulder as she laughs at something he says through the open window. She leans down, her hand resting on the door.
I've seen that body language a thousand times. In the club, in the streets, in every dark corner where alphas and omegas circle each other like predators.
"Dante." My voice cuts through the conversation. "What the fuck did I say about Peters?"
Dante glances out the window. "You said to keep an eye on him."
"And?"
"He drops her off from training three times a week. Always at the same time. Always professional. I had a chat with Isabella and said he passes this way."
"Professional." I let the word sit. "My sister is an unmated omega. There's nothing professional about that."
Marco shifts uncomfortably. "Boss, Isabella hasn't done anything wrong."
"Get out. All of you. Go sort out my alcohol delivery before Vittorio takes matters into his own hands and starts a fucking war."
They leave without argument.
All except Marco.
My number two lingers by the door, arms crossed. He's been with me since we were kids running errands for my father. If I trust anyone, it's him.
"What?" I snap.
"You want me to handle Peters?"
"No." I run a hand through my hair. "I want you to find out what the hell Isabella is up to. She's hiding something. I can feel it."
Marco nods slowly. "You think it's the doctor?"
"I think…"
"I think you need to leave me the hell alone!" Isabella's voice cuts through the house like a gunshot. She's standing in the doorway, her cheeks flushed, her eyes blazing.
Christ. How much did she hear?
"Isabella—"
"No." She storms into the study, dropping her gym bag on the floor. "I'm so sick of this, Knox. You watch every move that I make. You interrogate everyone I talk to. You've turned my life into a goddamn prison, and I'm done."
"You'll be done when I say you're done."
"I'm twenty-three years old!"
"You're an unmated omega in a world full of alphas who would use you to get to me." I step closer. "You think I'm doing this to torture you? I'm keeping you alive."
"By suffocating me?" Her laugh is bitter. "By treating me like I'm some fragile piece of property. Do you think you'll get to auction me off to the highest bidder?"
"I would never—"
"You told me I can't have a pack until you find someone worthy." She throws my words back at me like a weapon. "What does that even mean, Knox? Who decides? You? When you're not even mated yourself?"
I don't need a pack. I don't need anyone.
"You will not be getting a pack," I say, my voice cold. "When the time comes, you will marry an alpha who is worthy of you and this family name. Someone strong. Someone I can trust."
"Someone you can control, you mean."
"Yes." I don't sugarcoat it. "Someone I can control. Because the alternative is you ending up with some weak-willed pretty boy who'll not be good enough for you."
She stares at me for a long moment, her chest heaving. Then she turns away, crossing her arms.
Marco clears his throat. "I'll, uh... I'll be outside."
He disappears before I can stop him.
Her breathing is still ragged at the edges, but beneath the anger is something else. Fear, maybe. Or exhaustion. The kind that has nothing to do with training.
I soften. "Isabella."
She doesn't turn around.
I pass Isabella as I cross to the window, put my back to the room, and watch Dr. Peters disappear down the drive. "After the Olympics," I say. "If you medal."
A beat. My nose twitches.
"What?"
I shake off the smell and continue, "An apartment. In the city." I keep my eyes on the drive. "Your own space. Your own door." I pause. "If you get a medal."
"You know I'll get a medal."
"I do."
"And…"
I don't turn around to look at her because I don't need to. I know my sister. I know when she is angry, hurt, and the times that mean she's deciding whether to trust me.
“Nothing else.”
"That's it?" she says finally. "No conditions? No approved visitor list? No arranged marriage. And…And no Marco sitting outside with a clipboard?"
"I didn't say that. No clipboard, though."
She laughs. "You’ll get me an apartment in the city?"
"Medal first," I say. "Then we'll talk about the rest."
She picks up her gym bag. I hear the strap settle on her shoulder. "Fine."
It's not forgiveness. It's not even close. But it's the closest either of us gets, and we both know it.
She strolls to me, plants a kiss on my cheek. "If you let me have an apartment, I promise to always check in with you."
Isabella will say anything to get her own way.
"How's training?" I ask as I glance at my desk, looking for the bourbon.
"Fine. Coming along nicely." Her voice clipped.
"And will anyone be better than you?"
"I should maintain my lead and get the gold. There's nobody better than me."
Isabella is the world's best, and we both know it.
"Good. Keep it that way."
"Do you talk to anyone at the ice rink?" She's halfway to the door when the question slips out before I can stop it, but I can't stop thinking about the smell only she could have brought into the room with her.
She pauses. Turns. And for the first time since she stormed in, she smiles.
"Come to my training session and find out."
Then she's gone, and I'm standing in the study alone with that goddamn scent still lingering in the air.
Sweet and rich with an underlying sharpness that makes my mouth water. Not Isabella's. I'd know hers anywhere. This is something else. Someone else. It clings to her clothes, her skin, faint enough that I almost missed it.
Almost.
I pull out my phone and text Marco.
Me: Find out who Isabella's been spending time with. Don't let her know you're watching.
His response is immediate.
Marco: On it.
I set the phone down and walk to the window, staring out at the darkening sky. There is someone out there that has sparked my alpha. I will find out who.