Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur) novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Iris

Arthur’s office is the last place I’d like to be this morning. I’d much rather be spending my morning with Miles, or perhaps working on the new painting that came to mind late last night–an abstraction of waffles and strawberries bleeding thick, red

blood.

But instead, I’m here, walking through the opulent halls of his headquarters again.

The secretary opens the door to Arthur’s office for me and gestures for me to enter. “The Alpha President will be right with you,”

he says with a curt smile.

Of course, Arthur isn’t even here yet. Of course he would make me

wait.

I take a seat in the slick leather chair across from his desk, the fabric squeaking as I settle in. For a moment, I glance around the room, taking in the pristine glass–top desk without so much as a finger smudge on it, the state–of–the–art computer, the glass of water refracting tiny rainbows across the desk’s surface, and most of all…

The golden award for the Ordan Historical Society’s Cancer Benefit sitting on the windowsill.

I want to laugh out loud at the award. I’m not so sure anymore if he would donate for the cause or just for the recognition and the trophy. The man I once knew, or so I thought, would have donated just for the cause.

Now… I don’t know who Arthur is anymore, really. I’m not sure if I ever did.

I’m not waiting long before the frosted glass door swings open again, and Arthur strides in with an air of authority. I get a whiff of expensive cologne as he brushes past me and takes a seat behind his desk.

“Iris,” he says, reaching into a manila folder and withdrawing a small bundle of papers. “Thank you for coming.”

“Your Beta told me you had some paperwork I had to sign,” I say as blandly as I can manage. But I can’t help but add, “He showed.

up at my address. An address that I never shared with you outright.”

Arthur glances up at me. “And why didn’t you?”

I bristle. “Why should I? It’s my personal business, Mr. President.”

He doesn’t respond to that, and I’m not sure if that annoys me more than words could. He slides the papers across the desk along

with a pen. “I just need you to sign these,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Your citizenship papers.”

Just to spite him, and just in case he’s trying anything sneaky to get custody of Miles, I pick up the papers and carefully read through each and every one. Arthur remains silent, his green eyes fixed on me unwaveringly as I read. The only sound in the room

is the rustle of the papers and the ticking of the clock on the wall, as well as the distant hum of the city far below.

I take my time, ensuring that everything is in order. But I’m both relieved and a little surprised to find that the papers are indeed exactly what Arthur said. There’s nothing fishy in any of the clauses–just simple agreements to abide by Ordan laws, to not

bring contraband into the city, and to get an Ordan driver’s license within ninety days.

“Yes,” he says. “There is something else. Regarding Miles.”