Chapter 52

Iris

Later, once Miles is asleep, I’m in my studio, preparing my supplies, when the studio door creaks open. Arthur steps into the room, wearing a plain t-shirt and trousers. I gesture to the seat I’ve prepared by the window.

“Take a seat. And take your shirt off.”

I busy myself with lining up my charcoals as he takes his seat, trying not to look when he grabs the back of his shirt with one hand and pulls it over his head.

But it’s impossible not to look.

Arthur was always muscular, the perfect Alpha physique incarnate. He always made time to work out, to eat healthy and look good. But I expected that, once he became President, he wouldn’t have time for such things.

I was wrong. Somehow, if the size of his muscular arms, chest, and back are any indication, he has even more time these days to exercise.

Arthur must notice me staring at the hard planes of his chest and the slope of his shoulders, because he clears his throat.

“How should I pose?”

I jump slightly at the sound of his voice, my face instantly reddening. “However you want,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t tremble too much. “Just make sure it’s a pose you can hold for a while.”

Arthur hesitates, considering, then crosses his legs and hooks one elbow over the back of the chair. “How’s this?”

My throat bobs at the casual posture. In clothes is bad enough, but shirtless… I feel like I’m a flustered schoolgirl all over again.

“Let me just…” I move forward, and without thinking, I reach out and touch his arm. His skin is warm and smooth beneath my fingertips as I carefully reposition him. Arthur lets me move his body, his green eyes never leaving me.

When I’m finished, I pause for a moment before stepping back. “Much better.” With that, I quickly turn and get to work.

As I begin to sketch, Arthur remains quiet for a while. I’m not sure if he can tell that my hands are shaking as I draw, making me have to erase and start over multiple times.

Finally, after a few minutes, he breaks the silence.

“I heard you went to Brooks & Lee today.”

My hand stills momentarily over the drawing pad, the memory of those two pricks at the law firm making my jaw tick. “Did you?”

Arthur levels me with a stern gaze. “Did they try to blackmail you with photographs?”

I freeze again, this time glancing at him. I know there’s no point in lying, so I say, “They took my money for a consultation fee and then asked for a thousand Ordan dollars per photograph. I couldn’t afford it.”

To my surprise, Arthur doesn’t look angry or disappointed, or much of anything, for that matter. “It’s handled,” he simply says. “Don’t worry about it.”

I let out a small breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. “Thank you.”

Arthur is quiet for another moment before he continues, “You know, taking this to the courts is going to cause a lot of trouble for all of us. Miles included.”

I frown, my hand moving faster and more aggressively across the paper as I draw the harsh lines of his legs. “What else do you expect me to do?”

“Stay here,” he replies quickly. “In Ordan. With me.”

“After you used a contract loophole to keep me here? And threatened arrest?” I scoff. “Why should I stay here after that?”

Arthur holds my gaze. “Iris, you left me no other choice. I was terrified that you were going to take Miles away and keep me from seeing him ever again. That you’d keep me from seeing you ever again.”

I stare at him for a moment, reading his expression. Truthfully, no matter how angry I want to be, I just… can’t. Not after last night. Not after the way he risked his own life to save Miles.

“Your career is taking off here,” he continues. “And I know you’re strapped for money right now, but you also know I can help you. Don’t you think that you and Miles both are better off in Ordan, where you belong? Don’t you think it would be better for him to see his father?”

My grip tightens around the pencil so hard that I almost snap it. I don’t respond, not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t think of a retort. Because Arthur is partially right.

“Iris,” Arthur goes on, “just tell me what I can do to make things right between us, and I will.”

I want to tell him that he could start by leaving Selina and being with me. I want to tell him to swallow his pride and fears and just be with me, publicly, and tell anyone who’s bothered by the fact that he has a human mate to go to hell.

But I don’t—because after everything, I have no intention right now of getting back together with him.

“An apology would be a start,” I finally bite out.

Arthur doesn’t hesitate. He suddenly stands, crossing the room, and grabs my hands. I drop my charcoal pencil as he tugs me away from my easel.

Then, he drops to both knees in front of me, still gripping my hands. My breath catches in my throat as those green eyes look up at me, wide and sincere.

“Iris, I am so sorry,” he says, his voice soft. “I am so sorry for arresting you, for using the contract against you. I’m sorry for everything. Truly.”

I don’t know what to say. Part of me, the part that still feels hurt and heartbroken after the past five years, wants to believe he’s lying. But as I look into his eyes, all I see is truth. He is sorry; that much I can tell.

And as much as I hate to admit it, I want to kiss him right now. I almost do.

Without meaning to, the bond that binds us together gently tugs on me, urging me toward him. Even kneeling, he’s still tall enough that I only need to dip my head, and our lips will meet. I hold my breath as I move toward him, and his mouth parts, his eyes half-lidded.

But I quickly get a grip on myself. Kissing him won’t help any. I might consider staying in Ordan, for my career and for Miles’ sake, and I might even consider letting Arthur have visitation rights, but I won’t let myself fall back in love with him.

Not after five years of hardening myself, of building steel walls around my soul, of filling in the cracks in my heart with titanium.

For my son’s sake, I can’t risk myself breaking all over again.

So I straighten once more, gently pulling my hands away and lifting my chin. “That’s a start,” I say.

Arthur looks at me for a moment before he rises and takes his seat once more. We work in silence for a while, the only sound in the room that of my pencil scratching across the paper.

It doesn’t take long for me to finish the preliminary sketch, and I gesture to Arthur. “You can get up now and take a look.”

Arthur rises and crosses the room again, taking the drawing pad from me. I watch with bated breath as he inspects the drawing. After a few moments, a faint smile touches his lips.

“I love it.”

I glance up at him. “Really?”

He nods. “You don’t even have to add paint if you don’t want to. I like it the way it is.”

I’m surprised, so much so that my cheeks flush a little. “If that’s what you want, then I won’t,” I reply quickly.

Arthur looks pleased, and I tear the sketch from the pad while he murmurs something about taping it to the wall in his home office. I turn to put my charcoals away, and when I turn back, his shirt is back on. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed.

“So you’ll stay in Ordan?” he asks.

I pause, biting my lip as I consider. Miles does love it here, and frankly, so do I. My career is much better off here. And if I’m going to co-parent with Arthur, then it’s better to be here. But the thought of having to hide and wear disguises doesn’t sit right with me.

Finally, with a sigh, I say, “I’ll consider it. But I’ll want to look for my own place again. And we’ll have to figure out a better solution for the whole issue of getting recognized.”

Arthur looks relieved, but not entirely. “You won’t stay here? With me?” He gestures to the apartment. “Miles deserves a happy family at home.”

My heart aches, but I shake my head. “No.”

He sighs. “What will it take to get you to move back in with me? Another apology?”

The implication that I’d consider getting back together with him for a simple apology makes me bristle slightly. Without thinking, I say, “Leave Selina.”

Arthur blinks, and so do I. I can’t believe I just said that, but at the same time, I’m glad I did. It’s better than lying about what I want.

And for a moment, just a moment, I allow myself to hold onto the hope that he might actually do it. That he values us—our family—over whatever amount of power marrying into her family gives him.

But he doesn’t.

“It’s not that simple, Iris.”

I clench my jaw and hand him his portrait, that small flicker of hope instantly winking out. “Then I guess this conversation is over.”