Chapter 168

Iris

Selina.

It’s been months since I’ve seen her in person, and my first instinct is to turn around and go back inside the orphanage. I have no desire to speak with her after everything she’s done, and even if I did, we made an agreement: she would stay away from me and my family unless absolutely necessary.

Then again, I suppose I should have expected to run into her here at the orphanage, where she’s been diligently putting in community service hours. I can’t really fault her for that, but I’m not going to engage.

“Come on, little wolf,” I mutter, tugging Miles toward our car where Emi is waiting. “Let’s go home.”

“I saw the news,” Selina calls after me. “Quite the spectacle you’ve made of yourself.”

I stiffen but keep walking.

“I just wanted to warn you about Veronica.”

That makes me stop in my tracks. Veronica… I know I shouldn’t, but curiosity gets the better of me. I hand Miles to Emi, promising to return in a minute, then walk up to Selina and fold my arms. “What about Veronica?”

Selina smirks, clearly pleased that she’s caught my attention. “I thought you might want to hear what I have to say about your darling cousin. Or is she our cousin? I’m not so sure these days.”

“Make it quick,” I hiss. “I don’t have time for your antics these days.”

“Fair enough.” Selina approaches slowly, each click of her shoes against the pavement like a gunshot in the quiet evening air. “Veronica may appear sweet on the outside, but trust me, she’s a snake.” Her lips curve into that usual humorless smile of hers. “It takes one to know one, I suppose.”

“Why should I believe anything you say?” I challenge, lifting my chin. “You’ve never done anything but try to hurt me.”

“Oh, please.” Selina rolls her eyes. “I may not like you, but we have one thing in common now—neither of us wants that bitch anywhere near Arthur.”

I raise an eyebrow at that. “I thought you were done with Arthur.”

“I am.” She shrugs. “But that doesn’t mean I want to see that manipulative witch sink her claws into him.”

Despite my better judgment, I’m intrigued. “What do you know about Veronica?”

Selina’s gray eyes gleam with something that looks almost like satisfaction. “Did you know she wanted Arthur to choose her for his contract marriage instead of me?”

“I’m aware.” And it’s true; I recall Veronica mentioning the choice Arthur made during my debut ball.

She tilts her head. “So you knew, then, that she was so angry he chose me over her that she keyed my car?”

“What?” I breathe. “She keyed your car?”

“Oh yes.” Selina examines her nails, which are still just as manicured now as they were before. “She ruined my expensive car, freshly imported from overseas. Scratched all kinds of nasty words into the paint. She thought she would get away with it, but I caught her on my security camera. When I confronted her, she pulled her usual bullshit—tried to smile and claim it wasn’t her, that I was just jealous of her life and her looks. In fact, she was such a good liar that she convinced our circle of friends that the tape was altered and that I was crazy.”

I blink, stunned by Selina’s words. I want to believe Selina is lying, as usual, but somehow… it feels right. Like something Veronica might do.

The earrings. She immediately flipped the script on me, made me think I was the crazy and cruel one for accusing her.

Just like she did with Selina.

“Why was she so upset?” I find myself asking.

“She’s always had a lavish lifestyle,” Selina answers. “And, well, Arthur always had a lot of money. When he was campaigning, all she saw were dollar signs. Not that I blame her, of course.”

Selina smirks, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. She goes on, “Anyway, her lifestyle has gotten out of hand this past year, and she’s desperate.” Her eyes narrow. “Think about it—the fancy penthouse, the designer clothes, the constant traveling… The blood diamonds. Where does all that money come from? Her music career? Please.”

“You think she’s after Arthur for his money?” I ask skeptically. “Veronica’s family is wealthy, too. And she has her charity—”

“Her charity,” Selina scoffs. “Have you looked into that charity of hers? Really looked into it?”

I think about what Arthur told me—about the discrepancies in the funding. Could Selina be right?

“Arthur has always had money,” Selina continues, “and now that he’s President, he has even more power, more connections. For someone like Veronica, that’s irresistible. And you’re the only thing standing in her way.”

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly going dry. “You think she’s trying to take my place.” I don’t tell Selina about the mate bond between them. I can’t. It would give her too much satisfaction, I think, and frankly I still haven’t been able to bring myself to say it out loud since Arthur told me.

“I know she is.” Selina’s voice drops to a near-whisper. “And I know she’ll do anything to get what she wants. Even if it means destroying your reputation in the process.”

For a moment, I just stare at her, trying to reconcile this information with what I know about Veronica. The perfect pianist. The beloved socialite. The incomparable philanthropist. Could it all be a facade?

And yet… I recall the way she always seems to show up at just the right moment to posture herself in such a way that I look bad and she looks perfect. Coming to my rescue at the debut ball. Stealing the show at my art exhibition and the party afterwards.

And now the incident with the earrings—giving me blood diamonds, mysteriously disappearing when things went south at the gala, and then showing up like a savior at the press conference.

With that, Selina turns and leaves. I’m too stunned to ask more, not that I think she would tell me more anyway. I already know enough.

Of course, I know I should take Selina’s words with a massive grain of salt. She’s always been manipulative and cruel. She tried to kill me, for fuck’s sake. Why should this be any different?

And yet… maybe this time, she’s actually telling the truth. The idea that Veronica might be purposely trying to sabotage me while positioning herself as Arthur’s better choice makes a disturbing amount of sense.

By the time we arrive home, it’s late. Miles has fallen asleep in his car seat. I carry him inside, surprised to find the apartment quiet and dark.

“Arthur?” I call softly, but there’s no response.

I head upstairs to check our bedroom and find Arthur sprawled across the bed, still wearing his work clothes, with the kitten—well, not really so much of a kitten these days—purring on his chest. He must have come home early and crashed. It’s been happening more frequently lately—the exhaustion of running a country combined with our personal drama taking its toll.

With a soft smile tugging at my lips, I lay Miles down beside him. Despite being asleep, Miles immediately curls toward his father, and my heart crumples into a mushy heap. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing giddily at the adorable scene.

I watch them for a moment, my mate and my son, both sleeping peacefully. In rest, they look particularly like each other—when Arthur’s face isn’t lined with worry and responsibility and he looks like a younger version of himself.

And as I watch them, I can’t help but think to myself…

This is my family. Mine. Not hers.

If Veronica is really scheming to take Arthur away from me, then I’m not worried. Let her scheme and plot all she wants; she won’t succeed. Because what Arthur and I have built—this life, this love, this child between us—is far stronger than anything she could possibly do.

Even if Arthur really does have two mates, even if his wolf recognizes something in Veronica that calls to him, I refuse to believe he would choose her over us. Over this.

Still smiling softly, I climb onto the bed beside them. In sleep, Arthur senses my presence and reaches out, pulling me closer so Miles is sandwiched between us.

I fall asleep just like that, with my family.

But there’s no stopping the dreams I have about a crimson serpent wrapping herself around my mate’s throat.