Page 22 of Knot Your Pucking Secret

Some legacies are inherited.

Mine had to be reclaimed.

No matter how long the truth is buried, it has a way of demanding the light.

Today, it’s my turn.

I was never fighting for a place that wasn’t mine. I was fighting my way back to it.

Every rejection. Betrayal. Every sleepless night spent wondering whether I was good enough, whether I deserved to be here, whether I belonged inside this organization… None of it was because I was an outsider trying to force myself in. Patrick stole my childhood. Brett tried to steal my future. But neither of them managed to steal who I was.

A Welsh.

The rightful owner of the Vadena Cardinals.

And today, everyone on the other side of this door is about to find that out.

Chapter Nine

Dominic

Idon’t want to be here.

I would prefer to be anywhere else but this fucking boardroom. I’ve put on a good front of being okay. Of having my shit together since my Omega left us.Left me.

But I don’t.

Not a single part of me is okay.

I am a fucking mess. Held together by weak threads that even now are frayed. Threads that bite into my skin every time I pretend I’m fine. Every forced smile. Interview. Practice. Every fucking breath feels like it’s one inconvenience away from snapping completely. It’s the least that I deserve. I should be suffering more than I am. I destroyed my Omega with my own hands and I get to be here and she doesn’t. I get to walk these halls. Watch the ice she earned every right to own and coach on.

I gave in to my baser desires. The darkness inside of me took over and tore her from me.

I wanted her closer. I wanted her mine. But all my actions achieved was having her ripped from me in a matter of moments.

And all for what? A spectacle? A point proven that we are untouchable?

Untouchable.

What a fucking joke.

That is hardly the case considering the predicament I find myself in.

Sometimes I still think I can smell her even though it has been months. Her scent is embedded into my brain. The pair of panties I stole from her the night I carved my name into her flesh have long lost their scent. Months of being hidden beneath my pillow have stripped away every trace of her midnight rain, jasmine, sweet honey, and moonlit roses. A scent so uniquely hers that nothing compares to it. That doesn’t mean I don’t hold them to my face every single night to the memory of the way her body felt against mine. The way she had clung to me as I sent her over the edge.

Nothing will ever feel as good as her skin against my body. Her touch on my flesh like she was trying to carve herself into me with nothing but touch alone. I remember every sound she made. Every laugh. Every stifled sigh or sharp intake of breath because there was no way she could hide her reaction to me. What terrifies me most is that one day I’ll wake up and I won’t remember her scent.

A nudge in my side has me blinking back to attention, the sound of the crowded boardroom filtering back in.

“Any idea what the announcement is meant to be?” Burke questions.

I shake my head. “None at all. The board has been quiet these past few weeks. None of us have been given anything more than a few reassuring words to placate us.”

Burke hums thoughtfully as he watches Clive Roberts, the assistant manager of the team, give a few final words to the board, who are also here today.

Clive clears his throat, drawing the attention of the room.

“Thank you all for coming here today. I know things have been all up in the air these past few months. Due to discrepancies in Patrick Gilmore’s will, our hand was forced to remove Lennon Gilmore as the head coach and in turn, majority owner. We had no choice but to put the team up for sale.”