Jealousy Alpha's Regret novel Chapter 82

Jealousy Alpha’s Regret

Chapter 82

Iris’s POV

I arched my eyebrow as the words “request” left Megan Claire’s

perfectly glossed lips. The smug satisfaction on her face couldn’t be

more obvious if she’d drawn it on with a Sharpie. I set my mouse

down slowly, taking my time to process what she was really up to.

“You want me to accompany you to meet a client?” I repeated,

studying her face closely. Her eyes gleamed with barely concealed

triumph, like a cat that had finally cornered its prey.

Megan’s expression tightened slightly at my hesitation. “That’s what I

said, Stone. Is there a problem with your hearing?”

I glanced around our office. A few curious eyes darted away when I

caught them staring, Something wasn’t right. Megan Claire had never

voluntarily included me in anything important, especially not client

meetings.

“No problem at all,” I replied smoothly. “Just surprised you’d want my

input.”

Megan stood up, smoothing her fitted designer dress. “Well, don’t get

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used to it. And hurry up–we need to prepare, and I don’t want to

keep the client waiting.”

I rose from my chair with deliberate slowness, my mind racing.This

sudden ‘opportunity‘ coming right after she somehow found out about

my pregnancy? The timing was too convenient to be coincidence.

“Of course,” I murmured, following her across the office. “We wouldn’t

want to keep anyone waiting.”

As we walked, I mentally cataloged possible scenarios. Was she

planning to embarrass me in front of a client? Or maybe set me up to

fail somehow? With Megan, the possibilities for pettiness were

endless.

We entered the women’s changing room, and Megan immediately

walked to a locker, pulling out a glossy black box tied with a red

ribbon. The kind of box you’d expect lingerie to come in, not

professional attire.

“Here,” she thrust the box toward me. “You’ll need to change into this.

We’re going to talk business, so appearance matters.”

I looked down at my current outfit–a crisp white button–up shirt and

tailored navy trousers. Perfectly appropriate for the office, and even client meetings. The clothes also did a decent job of masking the

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faint pregnancy scent that clung to me, barely detectable even to the

most sensitive werewolf noses.

“My current outfit is professional,” I pointed out.

Megan’s lips curved into that fake smile I’d grown to hate. “Just open

the box, Stone.”

I took the box, noting how her eyes never left my face. She was

waiting for a reaction–which told me everything I needed to know

about what was inside.

“Fine,” I said, deciding to play along. “Let’s see what you’ve picked

out.”

I stepped away toward the changing stalls, box in hand. Whatever

game Megan was playing, I wanted to understand the rules before

making my move. My curiosity outweighed my irritation.

Inside the stall, I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Immediately, I

saw black stockings folded neatly on top. Not the professional kind

worn with business attire–these were the kind you’d see in a

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