Jealousy Alpha's Regret novel Chapter 156

Chapter 156

Iris’s POV

“You wouldn’t dare, Miles whispered.

‘I wouldn’t dare?” I leaned forward just enough to make Miles uncomfortable, my voice dropping to a whisper that only a werewolf’s keen hearing could

catch. “Try me.”

The fear that flashed across Miles‘ face was almost worth all the trouble he’d caused me. His eyes darted nervously around the meeting room, probably checking if anyone else had caught our exchange. They hadn’t–human hearing wasn’t that good–but the tension between us was obvious to everyone.

1 straightened up, using my full height to tower over him. At 5’9“, I wasn’t exceptionally tall for a woman, but Miles had always been sensitive about his below–average stature. I watched as he tilted his chin up to maintain eye contact with me, his jaw clenched tight with humiliation.

“Miles,” I said, voice loud enough now for everyone to hear, “you know what I’ve been wondering? If your mate knew how you behave around other women- how you don’t even try to hide your disgusting leering–what do you think she’d do?”

The blood drained from his face. I’d hit a nerve exactly where I wanted to. I remembered meeting his mate once at a Polaris function years ago–a jealous, hot–tempered she–wolf with territorial issues that bordered on pathological. Any woman who so much as smiled at Miles risked getting her throat ripped

out. Metaphorically speaking. Usually.

I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Miles sputtered, trying to regain composure. “I was just watching your presentation. How dare you accuse me of

anything inappropriate?”

I raised an eyebrow and gestured toward the back of the conference room. ‘See that camera up there? It’s high–definition. Crystal clear picture. I wonder what your mate would think if she saw the footage of how you’ve been staring at me for the past twenty minutes?*

His face went from pale to crimson in seconds. Several people around the table shifted uncomfortably, obviously aware of what I was implying. A few of the women exchanged knowing looks–Miles‘ reputation apparently preceded him here too.

“You- Miles stood up abruptly, hands splayed on the table. “You think you’re something special? Who do you think you are?”

I didn’t move, didn’t even flinch at his display. Instead, I looked down at him with the coldest expression I could muster. “If your height is an issue, maybe

you should stay seated. Save your neck the strain.”

A ripple of surprised laughter spread through the room. Miles‘ face contorted with rage as he realized he’d been publicly humiliated. His anger radiated off

him in waves, and I caught the slight change in his scent–the tang of fury mixed with the bitter smell of embarrassment.

“You bitch,” he hissed, too low for human ears but clear as day to me.

Memories flooded back unwanted. The Polaris Studio company party three years ago. Miles cornering me in a hallway. The glass of champagne he’d offered that smelled wrong to my sensitive nose. The way he’d grabbed my wrist when I tried to leave, his fingers digging into my skin hard enough to bruise. The instinctive partial shift that had left my fingers tipped with claws, slashing across his stomach in self–defense.

The weeks of physical therapy afterward when the company security–all in Miles‘ pocket–had twisted my arm behind my back until something snapped. The devastating diagnosis; nerve damage to my dominant hand. The moment I thought my career as a designer was over.

I absently touched the inside of my right wrist where thin silver lines formed a barely visible scar–invisible to humans but clear to any werewolf who knew what to look for.

1/3

0:19 am P PPP.

Chapter 156

“It wasn’t just my hand that healed, Miles,” I said quietly. “My memory works perfectly fine too.”

Miles stood there seething, his nostrils flared as he tried to control his breathing. For a second, I thought he might actually try to attack me right here in the meeting room, but self–preservation won out. With a final glare, he snatched his portfolio from the table.

“This is ridiculous. I don’t have to put up with this. He stormed toward the door, nearly bumping into Marcus who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes.

“The competition–Marcus began, but Miles cut him off with a dismissive wave.

‘Find another one.” And with that, he was gone, the door slamming behind him.

The silence that followed was broken by someone clearing their throat. Gradually, normal conversation resumed, though I could feel curious glances directed my way. I took a deep breath and began gathering my materials, trying to appear unaffected by the confrontation.

Iris? Marcus approached cautiously. “Do you and Miles have some kind of… history?”

I looked up from my tablet, meeting his concerned gaze directly. “Yes, we have quite a history.”

His eyebrows rose expectantly, waiting for me to elaborate, but I just slipped my tablet into my bag. Some stories weren’t meant for the workplace, and I

wasn’t about to rehash one of the worst experiences of my life in the middle of a design meeting.

“It’s a long story,” I said finally. “And not one worth telling. If you need another judge for the competition-

‘No, no, Marcus shook his head quickly. “You’re more than qualified. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I gave him a small smile, appreciating his concern. ‘I’m fine. Miles is the one who ran away.”

Marcus chuckled at that, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “True enough. Well, I think we can call this meeting adjourned for now. We’ll regroup

after lunch.

I nodded and headed out, feeling the weight of eyes on my back as I left. The hallway was mercifully empty–no sign of Miles lurking around. I made my way back to the design department, taking the long route to clear my head.

When I entered the department, I could hear conversations hushing as I walked past. News traveled fast in this building, especially juicy news like a

confrontation between a consultant and a judge. I ignored the whispers and went straight to my temporary workstation.

Is it true you made Miles Hamilton run out of the meeting? Lisa appeared beside my desk, her eyes wide with excitement.

“News travels fast,” I remarked, settling into my chair.

Jane from reception said he practically sprinted through the lobby, Lisa continued, leaning closer. “Said he looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

I allowed myself a small smile. I doubt that.”

“Everyone’s talking about it, Lisa whispered. “Apparently he’s got quite the reputation, but no one’s ever called him out before.”

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