Chapter 128

Iris

The entire ballroom falls silent as Selina strides in looking like she wasn’t just in a coma yesterday. She’s fully decked out to the nines in a stunning silver ball gown, her hair and makeup utterly perfect.

But her face is thunderous, cold gray eyes narrowed and fixed directly on me. Even after months in a coma, it seems her shrewdness has only intensified.

People step out of her way as she cuts through the crowd without hesitating. Some look alarmed, but most just look excited by the drama unfolding. Margaret and the other Selina supporters I’d been warned about are practically buzzing.

Arthur moves to stand in front of me, but I place a hand on his arm, recalling Veronica’s words. I won’t appear weak. Especially not tonight, on one of the most important nights of my life.

Selina stops a few feet away, her eyes raking over me from head to toe. She takes in the wildflower gown, the expensive jewelry, my place at the center of a party clearly thrown in my honor.

“So,” she says, lifting her chin. “I see you’ve been playing dress-up while I’ve been gone.”

Whispers ripple through the crowd. My mother makes a small sound of distress, and my father places a hand on her shoulder.

I take a deep breath and step forward, ignoring the throb in my ankle. “Selina. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

Her eyes narrow further. “Don’t pretend you care about my well-being. You’ve been busy, haven’t you? Stealing my fiance, taking my place in my family, wearing my mother’s jewelry.”

My cheeks burn, but I keep my expression neutral. Getting defensive will only make me look guilty, and I’ve done nothing wrong.

“I understand why you’re upset,” I say calmly. “This must be confusing and overwhelming for you.”

“Overwhelming?” she scoffs. “Try infuriating. You manipulated your way into my family, convinced them of some ridiculous baby-swap story—”

“It’s not a story, Selina,” my father interjects firmly. “DNA tests have confirmed it.”

Selina’s eyes flash to him, hurt flickering across her face before hardening again. “And you just accepted it? Twenty-six years of being your daughter, and you toss me aside for—for her?”

“No one is tossing you aside, honey,” my mother says gently. “You’re still our daughter in every way that matters.”

Selina ignores this, turning back to me. “And you. What’s your endgame here? Money? Status? Revenge?”

I straighten my shoulders, suddenly tired of this whole charade. “Would you like something to eat?” I ask, surprising everyone, including myself. “There’s an amazing selection of food over there, and I imagine hospital meals aren’t particularly appetizing. Or perhaps a drink? You must be exhausted after everything you’ve been through.”

Selina blinks, clearly caught off guard by my change of subject. “What?”

“Food. Drink. You know, the normal things one might want at a party they just crashed.” I keep my voice light, conversational, as if we’re just two acquaintances chatting at a social event. “This is a celebration, after all, and you’re welcome to join us.”

The crowd is watching with rapt attention, waiting for the explosion. I catch Veronica’s gaze from across the room, and there’s a sparkle in her eye.

“I don’t want to replace you, Selina,” I go on. “That was never my intention. I can’t help that I’m the biological child of the Willfords—that’s just a fact. But that doesn’t make you any less their daughter, and honestly, I hope we can be sisters.”

Selina stares at me, her mouth slightly open. Whatever reaction she was expecting, it clearly wasn’t this.

“Sisters?” she repeats, her nose wrinkling. “You think you could possibly be my sister?”

“Why not? We may have been swapped at birth, but you were still raised as part of the family. We’re both their daughters.” I offer her a small smile. “And I’ve always wanted a sibling.”

For a moment, she looks uncertain. Then she glances around, seeming to remember that we have an audience. Her expression hardens again.

“I don’t need your pity.”

I nod. “Good, because I’m not offering any. Just food, drink, and the possibility that we can one day put aside our… troubled pasts.” I try not to think about the fact that she fucking tried to kill me. “We don’t have to be enemies forever.”

Arthur steps up beside me, his hand settling on the small of my back. “Selina, I’m glad to see you’re recovered. If you’d like, we can speak privately later.”

She looks at him, then at me, then back to him. Something complex flashes across her face—anger, hurt, resignation, all in rapid succession.

Without a word, she turns and walks away, making a beeline for the bar. The silence breaks as the crowd begins to talk loudly, all discussing the juicy drama that just unfolded.

I hardly even hear their words, though; my eyes are fixed not on Selina but rather on Veronica, who is standing across the way, that gleam still in her eye. She subtly lifts her champagne flute toward me in a silent toast, smirking, then takes a sip.

I’m not sure what to make of anything that just happened. In fact, I’m pretty sure I just blacked out and that entire interaction was run by some kind of invisible puppeteer.

My father comes over and claps his hand on my shoulder, startling me out of my reverie. “That was remarkably handled, Iris.”

“Oh. Uh… Thanks,” I say, feeling suddenly exhausted. I lean against Arthur, and he wraps his arm around me, supporting me. “I just… didn’t see the point in escalating things.”

“A wisdom that many in this room lack,” he says with a slight smile. “Come, you’ve been on that ankle long enough. Sit down and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

The remainder of the party passes quickly and, surprisingly, without a hitch. Selina keeps her distance, although I catch her watching me occasionally with an unreadable expression. The drama of her arrival seems to have overshadowed my earlier fall, which I count as a small victory.

Later, after the majority of the guests have left, I’ve retired to my parents’ sitting room to rest my ankle. My parents are off somewhere with Selina, likely discussing… well, everything. Arthur is with Ezra—Selina refused to speak to him.

I’m blissfully alone, and all I want to do is pull out my phone and scroll to pass the time.

My eyes widen as I see that my debut—and Selina’s dramatic entrance—is already trending across every major news outlet and social media platform.

“WILLFORD HEIR DEBUTS AMID DRAMA”

“SELINA VS. IRIS: THE SHOWDOWN”

“GRACE UNDER PRESSURE: HOW IRIS WILLFORD DEFUSED A BOMB”

There are photos of me in my gown, of my dance with Arthur, even of my confrontation with Selina. The comments are overwhelmingly positive toward me, praising my grace and maturity in handling what could have been an explosive situation. Many who had been on the fence about me seem to have swung firmly into my camp after tonight.

#TeamIris is even trending.

“Not tonight,” Arthur says suddenly, appearing over my shoulder out of seemingly nowhere and plucking the phone from my hands.

“Hey!” I protest. “I was reading that.”

“Exactly. And you’ll drive yourself crazy if you keep reading.” He pockets my phone. “No news for the next week, actually.”

I raise an eyebrow. “The next week? And who decided that?”

“I did. Just now.” He sits beside me and loops his arm around my shoulders. “Because we’re going to be otherwise occupied.”

“Are we?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He grins almost impishly as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out three plane tickets. “How does a vacation sound? Just you, me, and Miles.”

My eyes widen as I look at the tickets. One for me, one for Arthur, and one for Miles. “Where are we going?” I ask. I reach for them, but Arthur’s grin widens, and he pulls them out of the way.

“Ah ah ah,” he chides, waggling his finger in my face. “You can find out the destination once we arrive.”

Before I can protest, he tucks the tickets away again and stands, then takes both of my hands and helps me to my feet. “Now, we should get you home and out of this dress,” he says. “The plane leaves first thing in the morning.”