Knot The One They Want

Chapter 28: Erin Boleyn

Torin

"Oh, that was a bad shot," I say, watching Erin’s golf ball splash into the pond at the edge of the course. "You’re still so bad at this," I add, laughing. There’s nothing better than playing golf on a beautiful, well‑maintained field, the little hills rolling like waves beneath the sun, with your best friend and business rival by your side.

Erin pulls off his white cap and waves it dramatically. "It’s this thing that’s making me play so badly. I couldn’t see anything because of it," he says, his tone dripping with that familiar it’s not my fault energy.

"Erin, you always do this. Every time you know you’re close to losing, you come up with some wacko excuse," I snarl, rolling my eyes. He bats his blue eyes at me innocently, feigning ignorance.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about," he replies, his voice laced with sarcasm.

The face he’s making irritates me so much I want to punch him.

Every day I’m thankful we wanted different things in a pack, thankful we never formed one together.

Our parents had tried so hard to tie us together in a pack, making sure we were inseparable as children, attending every birthday party, every sleepover, every insignificant event the other hosted. But their effort bore no fruit. Not because they didn’t work hard enough, but because Erin and I wanted different futures.

Erin dreamed of a traditional pack: present members, a close bond with an omega they’d all love and cherish, the cliché dream of an Alpha surrounded by warmth and loyalty.

I, on the other hand, never cared for packs. I wouldn’t have one at all if it weren’t frowned upon for an Alpha to remain without a pack.

My focus has always been business to elevate it and expand it, pouring all my attention into success. Love, bonds and futile emotions, they mean nothing to me.

"Come on, let’s go get the ball before it sinks," Erin shouts, already heading down the hill.

"You know we could just use the golf cart. It would be faster," I call after him, jogging to catch up.

"What fun would that be? If I wanted to sit in a little car, I’d have gone to the track," he says, walking slowly with his hands in his pockets. The sun hits his face, making him glow. Erin’s looks are no joke. With his wealth, his charm, and his remarkable pack members, it’s surprising he still doesn’t have an omega.

"Weren’t you at this year’s gala? I remember seeing you there. Why don’t you guys have an omega yet? Did none of them catch your eye?"

"No, that’s not the case. Though it would have been easier if it was." He sighs, his eyes clouded with sadness. I instantly regret prying.

"An omega did catch our eye," he admits quietly. "One of my pack members danced with her once, and he was in love. We sent a proposal the next day, but we were rejected. She chose another pack."

"That sucks, man. You all are a perfect pack. I’m sure you’ll find someone one day," I say, patting his back.

"It’s fine. The party wasn’t a complete loss. The Boleyn began to thrive because of the connections we made at the gala."

"Oh yes, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Boleyn Industries has ascended from an A‑rank company to practically double S‑tier, leaving my Spade Industries behind in the dust. How did you do it? You’re even developing outside the country. How? I’ve worked my ass off trying to break out of this landlocked market, making deals with fucking Link Enterprises that I know won’t get me anywhere. It’s like the business is chained here, unable to expand beyond these borders."

Boleyn Industries has always been neck‑and‑neck with Spade. Together we ruled the country when it came to development, Boleyn built half of it, Spade built the other. For years we’ve fought to one‑up each other, clawing for the chance to expand outward, to widen our territory. But the country has always felt like a cage, a wall we couldn’t break through.

And now Boleyn has shattered it by developing outside and making a shit tone of money. Their net profit is nine times what Spade would make in a year.

"And I heard you’re going to develop Cramsworth. How? I’ve been chasing that project for years. Did you make a deal with the devil or something?"

"Yes." free𝑤ebnovel.com

"Yes to what?" I ask, frowning, my brows knitting together. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"I made a deal with the devil."

"Mr. Boleyn, it’s okay to reuse my questioning instead of lying," I chuckle, shaking my head. The devil? Does he really expect me to believe that? "Was he bright red with horns on his head?" I laugh harder, mocking.

"No. He was a normal Alpha like us, but highly evil." His tone is serious. "He offered me everything I’d ever wanted for my business, laid out on a silver platter."

I stare at him, surprised at how grave he is. It’s insane. "How did you even meet this supposed devil?" I ask, curiosity pricking at me despite my doubts.

"At the gala. Apparently I made a very good impression, and he offered me a deal."

"What deal?"

"He gives Boleyn projects of places to develop as long as we remain loyal to his batshit crazy pack. A pack that’s definitely doing crime. I know it, even though I haven’t seen it firsthand."

"How do you know if you haven’t seen it? Could be an honest business," I say, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand.

"No business is completely honest. Especially not this pack. It’s not even about money for them anymore. They do what they do for the thrill of it. Trust me, the fate of the world is in the hands of a crazy pack."

"Okay, so are you going to introduce me to them, or am I going to have to dig for information myself?"

"One, you wouldn’t find them. And two, I tell you all these horrible things about them, and you still want to do business?" Erin stops in his tracks, staring at me in disbelief.

"All my life I’ve worked ten times harder than you, only for it to mean nothing. Boleyn has left Spade in the dust. It’s madness. After everything I’ve sacrificed, after how hard I’ve worked, I’m miles behind you. I know life isn’t fair, but this is beyond unfair. You never work overtime, never on weekends. You have a perfect relationship with your pack members, loved as their leader, living relaxed. Meanwhile, I’m the opposite. I sacrificed my happiness, my f- whatever, for this company and it’s going nowhere. So if I must make a questionable deal, I will."

"I know. Sorry, man. It must hurt to eat my shit," Erin laughs, his eyes mocking me.

I clench my fists, the urge to punch him burning in my chest. But I don’t. Erin is petty enough to press charges, to throw me in jail for a night just for the fun of it. And I’d do the same to him.

"Oh, fuck you. And if the people you made a deal with were really that bad, you wouldn’t have made the deal. You love your pack too much to put them in danger," I scoff.

"True," Erin replies evenly, his tone calm but edged with warning. "But that’s because I’m a good listener. I know when to shut up. You don’t. If I connect you to them, you could put your whole pack in danger."

"Come on, Erin. I’m not that little boy with a temper anymore. I know when to shut up." I step into his path, planting my hands firmly on his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. "You can definitely trust me. I won’t put my pack’s life in danger." The words spill out smoothly and convincingly, but deep down I know I won’t keep that promise about shutting up.

Erin exhales, his sigh heavy, his eyes narrowing as if weighing my soul. "Fine. Don’t fuck up, Torin. I don’t want to see you end up dead."

His reluctant nod sends a surge of joy through me, a rush so strong it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs. If this is true, if these people really exist and he’s really going to connect men then doors I’ve been slamming against for years will finally open.

I won’t have to sacrifice as much as I do now for the company. I’ll have more time, more freedom. I’ll be able to focus on my pack, the people I do care about.

And maybe, just maybe, my fated mate could still be part of that future.