Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur) novel Chapter 192

Chapter 192

Chapter 192

“Alright,” I finally agree. “I won’t tell anyone, but only for a few days. This is too big to keep from my mate for any longer than that.”

Caleb smiles, looking relieved. “Thank you.” He glances down at my coffee–stained blouse and winces. “I’m sorry about that. Let me make it up to you.”

“It’s just a stain,” I say with a shrug. “It’ll wash out.”

“No, I insist.” He stands, checking his watch. “Do you have plans for the rest of the afternoon? Let me take you shopping.”

I blurt out a laugh despite the situation. “Shopping? Really?”

“Yes, really,” Caleb says, looking oddly adamant. “Consider it my first act as your protective older brother.”

“I don’t need new clothes,” I protest.

“You do, actually,” he counters. “For what’s coming next. The media scrutiny is only going to increase, and you need to be prepared.”

I hesitate. “I have my son with me.”

“Bring him along,” Caleb suggests. “I’d like to meet my nephew properly.”

The word ‘nephew‘ hits me hard. If I’m truly a Willford, then Miles is not just Arthur’s heir, but a Willford by blood as well.

An hour later, after picking up Emi and Miles, I find myself in one of Ordan’s most exclusive boutiques. Miles is surprisingly patient, occupied with a tablet that Caleb produced seemingly out of nowhere. Emi stands discreetly near the entrance, alert as always. She doesn’t know why Caleb is doing this, other than the fact that he ruined my shirt. I wonder if she’ll report this to Arthur.

As for me, I’ve been extremely quiet since Caleb gave me the results. I feel like I’m in a daze, my mind turning foggy from the force of the revelation. I can’t even think straight, and all I want is to go home and lay down for hours so I can process all of it.

I’m a Willford.

Not just a Willford, but a werewolf.

What the hell is happening?

“That stylist of yours did you a disservice, by the way,” Caleb comments as he sifts through a rack of dresses, snapping me out of my reverie. “I saw the magazine spread and those clothes they put you in were all wrong for your coloring and body type.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised. “She seemed to know what she was doing.”

“That’s the problem,” Caleb says, holding up an emerald green gown against me. “She knew exactly what she was doing.”

“Yes,” Caleb confirms. “But Selina had a lot of supporters at all levels of Ordan society, including within Arthur’s

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“Tried to make you look worse on camera? Absolutely.” Caleb selects another dress, this one a deep sapphire blue. “And the women at the gala may have been employed by someone, not just acting in anger over Selina’s accident.”