Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur) novel Chapter 213

Chapter 213

Chapter 213

+25 BONUS

He nods with a practiced smile, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the questions still burning in his eyes.

I race to my bedroom and tear through my closet. The dress’d planned to wear—a sophisticated navy blue sheath

-hangs ready, but now I second–guess it. Too formal? Not formal enough?

Fuck it; there’s no time to debate. I shimmy into it, grateful that it doesn’t require complicated fastenings.

1

My makeup next. Skipping foundation, I opt for simple eyeshadow, mascara, and a touch of blush. My hands tremble slightly as I apply my lipstick, but I manage not to smear it. My hair, however, is a little trickier–the messy bun won’t do, but there’s no time for the elaborate updo I’d planned. I settle for a sleek low ponytail, securing it with a pearl clip.

For jewelry, I choose a pair of simple pearl earrings along with a delicate white gold necklace. After a spritz of perfume, I actually look nice. Pretty, even. And only a little nerve–wracked.

And then I’m rushing back to the kitchen just as the timer goes off for the bruschetta.

Somehow, miraculously, everything is ready when the other guests begin arriving. The salmon is perfectly flaky, the chicken is tender with its cherry reduction glistening on top. Even Leonard’s kiwi cocktails turn out beautifully, the pale green liquid looking elegant in crystal glasses. I don’t have time to sip mine as I’m bustling around, but the other guests exclaim that it’s delicious.

“Iris, you outdid yourself,” Leonard says for the third time, which surprises me. “This cocktail is wonderful. Really, you must try it.”

I manage a smile. “Thank you, Leonard. I’m glad you like it. I’ll have a sip soon.”

Leonard looks a little perturbed, but doesn’t mention it again. And so the night goes on without a hitch.

But the tension between Arthur and me is palpable. Every time I try to catch him alone, someone needs a drink refill or wants to compliment the party. Miles also bumped his head at Alice’s place while playing a little too hard and keeps tugging on my skirt to ask quietly for a comforting kiss on the spot where it hurts.

Caleb’s arrival only makes things worse–Arthur’s jaw tightens visibly when they shake hands, and I know his blood is boiling with suspicion and anger.

The party passes in a blur. I play the perfect hostess, making sure my guest’s glasses are never empty, that the conversation never lags. But inside, I’m dying. The secret weighs heavier with each passing minute, made worse by Arthur’s occasional pointed looks.

Finally, as dessert is served, I decide it’s time for my toast. I prepared an entire speech beforehand, one that I hope will subtly plant the seeds for my future public debut as a Willford–something about family, acceptance, that sort of thing.

Taking a tiny sip of the kiwi cocktail to steel myself, I stand tapping my glass gently with a spoon. The conversations die down as everyone turns to look at me.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” I begin with a practiced smile. Shoulders straight, neck long, face soft. Just like Caleb taught me. He gives me a small thumbs–up from the back of the room. “I wanted to bring everyone together because family is so important, and there are things about family that-”

My throat suddenly constricts. The words stick, refusing to come out. I try to swallow, to push past whatever’s blocking my airway, but it’s like my throat has sealed shut.