Jealousy Alpha's Regret novel Chapter 67

Chapter 67

“Tonight, actually. At Moonlight Harbor.” I glanced at the clock.

There was a pause, then Rachel’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial

whisper. “Iris Stone, are you telling me you have a dinner date with

Ethan Lowell–THE Ethan Lowell–and you’re just casually

mentioning it now?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a date, Rachel. It’s a business dinner.”

“Oh please! A powerful, single werewolf CEO personally calls

invites you to dinner? That’s not just business.”

you and

“You’re being ridiculous,” I said, but couldn’t help smiling at her

enthusiasm. “He hasn’t even met me yet. Besides, this is purely

professional. He’s impressed with my design work.”

“Sure, honey. And I bet he’s also curious about how the designer

looks,” Rachel teased. “Trust me, Noah’s been giving you those puppy

eyes for years because of your ‘design work‘ too.”

“Rachel!” I exclaimed, feeling my cheeks warm despite myself. “Stop it. This is serious. This could be a huge opportunity for my career.”

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Chapter 67

“Fine, fine,” she conceded, though I could still hear the smile in her

voice. “But promise you’ll text me after. I want all the details-

especially if he’s as hot as the rumors say.”

After hanging up with Rachel, I stood before my closet, suddenly

overthinking what to wear. This wasn’t a date, but it was still

important to make a good impression. I didn’t want to look like I was

trying too hard, but I also needed to appear professional.

“It’s just a business dinner,” I reminded myself, selecting a simple

silver evening dress that was elegant without being too formal. The

fabric was comfortable but still looked expensive–perfect for a high-

end restaurant meeting.

I applied light makeup, enough to look polished but not overdone.

Looking in the mirror, I nodded with satisfaction. “Professional but

not stiff. Perfect.”

By the time I arrived at the restaurant, my nerves had settled into a

determined calm. This was a new opportunity, and I was going to

approach it with confidence. The restaurant was exactly what I’d

expected–upscale but understated, the kind of place werewolves

favored for its privacy and discrete service. Soundproofed walls and

well–spaced tables ensured conversations remained private.

I checked my watch–right on time. Standing at the entrance, I took a

deep breath and straightened my dress. “First impressions matter,” I

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whispered to myself.

As I was about to step inside, I noticed a man descending the

staircase from the second–floor balcony. He moved with the kind of

effortless grace that immediately identified him as a werewolf. Tall,

with broad shoulders and an air of quiet confidence, he wore a

tailored suit that looked expensive without being flashy. A pair of

gold–rimmed glasses gave him an intellectual appearance that

contrasted intriguingly with his obviously powerful physique.

“Ms. Stone, over here,” he called, his voice warm and oddly familiar.

As he approached, I could see his features more clearly–handsome in

a refined way, with intelligent eyes that seemed to assess me quickly but respectfully. This had to be Ethan Lowell.

“I’m sorry if I’m cutting it close,” I said, extending my hand. “Traffic

was heavier than expected.”

He smiled, taking my hand. The touch sent an unexpected tingle up

my arm. “Not at all. You’re right on time.”

He guided me toward a private dining area, and I followed, keenly

aware of his presence beside me.

Once seated in the private room, I was surprised when he reached

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