Jealousy Alpha's Regret novel Chapter 100

Chapter 100

Sebastien’s POV

I heard Megan’s voice behind me, her explanation about how she was

“just concerned” about my drinking. Something inside me laughed

coldly. Did she really think I was drunk? After all these years, she still

underestimated me.

“You’re concerned?” I turned around, deliberately arranging my face

into the most mocking expression I could manage. “Don’t flatter

yourself. You’re just like every other girl in that bar trying to get my

attention tonight.”

I watched her expression crumble, her eyes growing wet around the

edges. God, I hated that look. The weak, vulnerable wolf act. It made

my stomach turn.

“If you’re going to cry, do it somewhere else,” I said with an irritated

click of my tongue. “It’s annoying.”

Megan’s lower lip trembled, and I felt a flash of disgust. Iris would

never resort to such obvious manipulation. Even when I’d hurt her

deeply, she’d face me with that quiet dignity that drove me crazy –

standing her ground with fire in her eyes rather than fake tears.

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“Just go,” I said, waving her off. “You’re wasting my time.”

She turned and practically ran back toward the bar entrance, heels clicking frantically on the pavement. I loosened my tie, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease slightly. Finally some peace and quiet.

The sensation hit me before the sound – that distinct presence of

another powerful werewolf. The scent was unmistakable, carrying notes of old money and privilege. I turned slowly, already knowing

who I’d find.

Ethan Lowell stood a few feet away, those ridiculous black and gold

glasses perched on his nose. My jaw clenched involuntarily. The heir

to the Lowell empire, with his perfect pedigree and his convenient

interest in my wife.

No, not my wife. Not anymore. But the thought still burned.

I’d read every file Daniel had compiled on him. Thirty–two years old.

Harvard Business School. Took over Polaris Studio at twenty–eight

when his father stepped down. Single. Never formally mated.

Suspiciously present wherever Iris happened to be lately.

“Bravo,” Ethan said, slow–clapping with exaggerated movements.

“That was quite a performance. You really know how to let a girl down

gently.”

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I felt a cold smile spread across my face. “Better than certain wolves

with… unusual interests.”

I watched his eyes flash with anger, a flash of gold briefly replacing

the brown. Hit a nerve, did I?

“Unusual interests?” he repeated, his voice deceptively soft as he took

a step closer. “Care to elaborate, Grey?”

“Let’s just say there are rumors about which way the Lowell wolves

hunt.” I kept my voice neutral but my meaning clear. “Not that it’s any

of my business who you chase after.”

Ethan moved closer, the casual grace in his steps belying the tension

radiating from him. I could smell his anger now, sharp and metallic.

My muscles tensed automatically, preparing for whatever was

coming.

“You should be careful throwing accusations around,” he said,

reaching forward and grabbing my collar.

I didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. His grip was strong – stronger than

I’d expected – but I cataloged at least three ways I could break it in an

instant. His stance was all wrong, weight too far forward, emotions

making him sloppy.

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“Or what?” I asked calmly, looking directly into his eyes.

The shrill ring of my phone cut through our standoff. I glanced down

at the screen without moving my head.

Iris.

I saw Ethan’s eyes follow mine to the caller ID, a flash of something

smug crossing his features. It took everything in me not to react.

Instead, I deliberately hit the decline button, watching satisfaction

bloom in his expression.

Amateurs are so easy to manipulate.

“Trouble in paradise?” Ethan asked, his grip loosening slightly. “Oh

wait, I forgot – the divorce is official now. How does it feel, Grey,

knowing she’s finally free of you?”

I kept my face carefully blank. “You seem very invested in my

personal life, Lowell. Should I be flattered?”

Before he could respond, my phone rang again. Iris, once more. This

time, I smiled and answered it, maintaining eye contact with Ethan.

“Yes?” I said, my voice deliberately cold.

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“Well, little one,” I whispered, gently touching my stomach, “looks

like our new life starts now.”

My phone rang, startling me. Marcus Foster’s name flashed on the

screen.

“Hello?” I answered, surprised to hear from my design mentor.

“Iris, I was wondering if you could stop by the design academy today,”

Marcus said, his tone friendly but formal. “There’s something I’d like

to discuss with you.”

“Today?” I hesitated, glancing at my watch. “I’ve already taken the

morning off for… personal business.”

“It won’t take long. I think you’ll find it worth your while.”

Curiosity got the better of me. “Alright, I’ll come by before heading to

the office.”

After ending the call, I hailed a taxi. The academy wasn’t far, and

frankly, I welcomed the distraction. Anything to keep from dwelling

on the strange emptiness I felt after signing those papers.

The design academy looked the same as always–a modernist building

with glass walls and sleek lines. I made my way to Marcus’s office,

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“Thanks for the invite, Blake. I’ve got to head out,” he announced.

My pulse quickened. This was my chance–I couldn’t let him leave

without making contact. I quickly pulled out my phone, pretending to

receive a call.

“Sorry, Blake,” I said loudly enough for people nearby to hear. “I need

to handle something as well. Great party!”

I slipped out of the room, careful to keep my distance from Sebastien

but not let him out of my sight. The main area of Shadow Moon was crowded tonight, the music pounding through the speakers as werewolves and humans alike danced and drank. I caught glimpses of Sebastien’s white shirt as he weaved through the crowd toward the

exit.

God, where was he going? What if he was meeting someone? What if

he was meeting her?

No. I refused to believe it. The divorce was public–he wouldn’t be

running back to Iris Stone now.

I followed him through the crowd, my heart racing. He was moving slower than usual, his steps not quite as precise. The alcohol was

affecting him after all.

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