Chapter 189

Iris

A cold fury overtakes me at the she-wolf’s words. For a moment, I’m certain I could do it—rip that snake from Arthur’s side and tear her to pieces with my bare hands. No. With my fangs.

But I blink, and the vision is gone in a flash. There is no wolf standing behind them. There is no blood. Just Arthur, sitting behind his new mahogany desk, with his new trophy wife perched on his lap.

I clench my jaw so hard my teeth ache and force myself to tamp down the rage. They’re both watching me, and there’s no doubt now in my mind that Veronica is gleefully waiting for me to do something rash. I need to be smart about this. Professional. I’m here for Ordan, not to make a scene.

“Arthur,” I say, lifting my chin and focusing solely on him, “I’d like to speak with you in private, please.”

Arthur looks at me, and for a brief moment, something flickers in his eyes—regret? Pain? Whatever it is, it’s gone so quickly I wonder if I imagined it.

“Anything you have to say can be said in front of my fiancee,” he replies coolly. The word fiancee is like a slap to the face.

I grit my teeth again, but decide that if Arthur won’t speak to me alone, I’ll just have to confront him with Veronica right there. “Fine. I’m here because I’m concerned about your behavior lately.”

“My behavior?” Arthur’s eyebrows rise. “What about my behavior?”

“Ezra informed me that you’ve been neglecting your duties,” I say bluntly. “Postponing meetings. Leaving legislation unsigned. Ignoring reports. In short, you’re not doing your job.”

“Arthur’s work has nothing to do with you, cousin,” Veronica chuckles. “He’s doing just fine.”

I ignore her, keeping my focus on Arthur. “Abandoning me and Miles is one thing,” I say, the words catching slightly in my throat. “But abandoning Ordan? That’s shameful, Arthur, even for you. You fought so hard to become President, promised so much to the people who voted for you. Are you really going to throw all that away?”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Arthur argues, but I notice a crease between his brows that wasn’t there before. My words seem to be getting to him, at least a little. “I’m simply… prioritizing differently now.”

“Prioritizing shopping trips and expensive dinners, you mean,” I retort with a humorless chuckle. I gesture around. “Buying new furniture and artwork while important policies collect dust on your desk.”

Arthur’s jaw tightens. “You don’t understand—”

“What I understand,” I cut him off, “is that you swore an oath to serve this country. Not to redecorate your office or… or prance around town with your new ‘fiancee’.”

“Watch yourself,” Arthur warns, and the flash of red in his eyes makes my spine instinctively stiffen. He’s never looked at me like that before, with so much hatred and anger. Never.

But somehow, I manage to keep my chin held high. “Or what?” I challenge, eyes narrowing. “I think you’ve already done your worst, Arthur. There’s absolutely nothing you could do at this point that could hurt me more than you already have.”

The redness in his eyes flickers, then fades. He looks momentarily confused, as if he’s not quite sure where he is or what we’re discussing. It’s so brief I almost miss it, but it’s there—a glimmer of the real Arthur beneath whatever fog has taken hold of him.

“She’s right, Arthur,” Ezra suddenly says, stepping into the room for the first time. “This isn’t you. You’ve never put personal pleasure above duty. Never.”

Arthur’s eyes flick to Ezra, and that look of confusion crosses his face momentarily again. But then Veronica’s laughter makes the look fade once more.

“People change,” Veronica says airily, stroking Arthur’s hair. “Arthur simply needed someone to show him how to enjoy life a little. Isn’t that right, my love?”

“Yes,” Arthur agrees with a curt nod. He looks at me, and whatever recognition that was once there is now gone. He’s looking at me like I’m worse than a stranger—like I’m a bug beneath his shoe. “People change, Iris. And it’s time you accepted that I’ve changed. I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

“Arthur—”

“No,” he cuts me off. “I’ve had enough of your lecturing. I’ve had enough of your judgment. You know what? I’m glad we’re finally being honest with each other. Because the truth is, I’ve known for a long time that you aren’t my true mate.”

“What?”

“Veronica is my true mate,” Arthur continues, wrapping an arm around her waist. “She always was. You were just… a pretender. Someone who trapped me for years with your lies.”

“Lies?” I repeat, my voice rising. “What lies, Arthur? Miles? Our life together? Those were real!”

“Were they?” He laughs, but it’s a harsh, unfamiliar sound, not at all like his usual self. “I know what you really are, Iris. A shallow gold digger who saw an opportunity and took it. All those years I thought you loved me, but really, you just loved what I could give you.”

Every word strikes like a knife to my heart, cutting deeper than I thought possible. After everything we’ve been through, after all the love we shared, how can he still say these things to me?

“You bastard,” I whisper, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “You heartless, spineless bastard.”

Arthur merely shrugs, as if my pain means nothing to him. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Truth?” I laugh bitterly. “You wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you on the ass, Arthur. You want to know the truth? The truth is I loved you. I sacrificed for you. I permanently altered my body to give you a son.”

He tilts his head. “You’re sure you gave me a son?” His eyes flick to Ezra, and there’s a meaning there that makes my stomach drop.

“Are you saying…?”

“I’ll never forget the day I found you two in your studio,” Arthur says coolly. “You convinced me that it was ‘just a portrait’, and I fell for it. But I know better now. That kid isn’t mine, is he? He’s Ezra’s.”

Ezra looks like he’s been shot. I can’t decide if I want to retch or wring my hands around Arthur’s throat.

Finally, I choose neither.

I straighten my spine, gathering every ounce of dignity I have left. “This is ridiculous. I’m done. You can have her. You can have this soulless office and this empty life you’re building. But you will never—never—see your son again.”

Something flickers in Arthur’s eyes at that, like I’ve struck a chord. But before he can respond, Veronica slides off the desk and stands between us, blocking his view of me.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” she says, her voice sickeningly sweet. “You’re upsetting my fiance.”

“Gladly,” I spit out. “I’ve wasted enough time here.”

With that, I turn on my heel and stride toward the door, desperate to get out before the tears start falling. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I won’t.

“Come on, Ezra,” I call over my shoulder. “We’re leaving.”

Ezra hesitates, looking one last time at Arthur—his Alpha, his friend—before following me out the door. As soon as we’re in the hallway, I stop, pressing my hand against the wall to steady myself.

“Iris—” Ezra begins, but I cut him off with a raised hand.

“I need some space.”

Ezra pauses once more, then nods and steps back. “I’ll give you a minute.”

As he walks away, I move down the hall, my footsteps shaky. People glance at me as I pass, no doubt having overheard all of that. I don’t care anymore. I want them to look—want them to see who their President really is.

But I don’t make it far before I hear the click of heels against marble. Turning, I see Veronica approaching with a white envelope in her hand and that damned ring still gleaming on her finger.

“Iris,” she says, “Don’t leave yet. I wanted to give you something.”

She holds out the envelope. I don’t take it.

“What is this?” I ask flatly.

“An invitation,” she answers, pushing the envelope into my hand. “To our wedding. It’s going to be quite the event, and despite your… history with Arthur, we thought it would only be right to include you.”

I stare at her, unable to believe her audacity. Is she serious? Does she really expect me to attend her wedding to my mate? The father of my child?

Without a word, I tear the envelope into strips. I don’t even bother opening it. When I’m finished, I throw the pieces up into the air and let them flutter down between us.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then,” Veronica says, but she doesn’t look upset. If anything, she seems pleased by my reaction.

“Stay away from me,” I warn her. “And stay away from my son.”

She laughs. Laughs. “Oh, Iris. So dramatic. Always playing the victim.”

“I’m not playing anything,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m telling you to back off.”

“And you’ll do what, exactly? Go running to Arthur? We both know he doesn’t want you anymore. He never really did. You were just… manipulating him.” Her eyes narrow. Gone is the facade of the kind, sweet philanthropist. She got what she wanted. She doesn’t have to pretend anymore.

The she-wolf is back. She wants me to destroy this pretender. And this time, I don’t fight it.

“You took advantage of him for years,” Veronica continues, twisting the proverbial knife in the wound. “All you ever were, all you will ever be, is a pathetic, shallow gold—”

Before I know what I’m doing, my hand flies up toward her face. I slap her so hard that it echoes down the hallway.