Jealousy Alpha's Regret novel Chapter 85

The men exchanged glances, and one with salt–and–pepper hair

raised his glass. “Then let’s drink to new relationships,” he suggested, pouring generous amounts of amber liquid into glasses around the

table.

Megan slid a glass toward me with a smirk. “Drink up, Iris. It’s rude to

refuse a toast from our clients.”

I took the glass, feeling the weight of six pairs of eyes watching me. I couldn’t drink–not with my baby. But refusing outright would raise

questions I didn’t want to answer.

“To new relationships,” I echoed, raising the glass to my lips. As everyone tipped their heads back to drink, I tilted the glass but kept my lips sealed, only letting the barest amount touch them. When I noticed the Mediterranean man watching me closely, I deliberately tipped the glass higher, making a slight grimace.

I set the glass down, still three–quarters full. “Wow, that’s quite strong,” I said, fanning my face slightly.

“Too much for you?” the Mediterranean man asked with a smirk.

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Chapter 85

“I prefer to keep my wits about me during business discussions,” I

replied smoothly. “But I appreciate the quality.”

From across the table, Megan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. She

hadn’t expected me to “drink” so readily. I maintained my composed

expression, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort.

The balding Mediterranean man stood to refill my glass, leaning

unnecessarily close. I could smell his cologne, overpowering and

cheap despite the expensive label. As he bent to pour, his free hand

moved toward my shoulder.

I pretended to stretch and reached for my water glass, effectively dodging his touch. “No more for me, thank you,” I said firmly. “I need

to keep a clear head for design discussions.”

His face fell slightly, but he recovered quickly. “Such dedication to

your work. Admirable.”

The lunch continued with a similar pattern. Every time one of the

men tried to touch me or get too close, I’d find a reason to move or shift away, I could see Megan’s growing frustration across the table as

her plan to humiliate me repeatedly failed.

“Iris,” she called, her voice syrupy sweet with underlying venom, “why don’t you come sit closer? Mr. Adessi wants to discuss some specific

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Chapter 85

design elements with you.”

I smiled politely. “I can hear perfectly well from here, thank you. My

hearing is quite… sharp.”

The slight emphasis on the word was meant for Megan alone–a

reminder of my werewolf senses. Her jaw tightened.

As the meeting progressed, the men grew bolder and more coordinated in their attempts. One would create a distraction while another tried to corner me. They were like predators working

together to isolate their prey.

During a particularly aggressive approach by two of them, I noticed Megan watching with barely concealed satisfaction. This had been her plan all along–to throw me to these wolves who weren’t wolves. To humiliate me and then spread rumors about how I behaved with

clients.

In that moment, I made a decision. If Megan wanted someone to be pawed at by these men, it should be the person who arranged this

farce.

As the Mediterranean man lunged toward me again, I grabbed Megan’s arm and pulled her forward, effectively placing her between

me and the men.

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