Chapter 198

Arthur

The airplane finally touches down on the runway with a gentle bounce. I blink slowly, consciousness returning in fragments as the fog that’s been clouding my mind momentarily thins.

For a split second, I wonder where I am and how I got here.

Then Veronica’s hand squeezes my thigh, and the fog rolls back in. “We’re home, darling,” she purrs.

Home. Is this home? The word feels wrong somehow, like it belongs to someone else. But I can’t quite grasp why.

“So we are,” I hear myself say.

Veronica stretches beside me. “That was such a divine vacation. I wish we could have stayed another week.”

“I have responsibilities,” I mutter, although I can’t quite remember what they are. Something to do with my position… President. That’s right. I’m the Alpha President of Ordan.

As we make our way off the plane and toward our waiting car, my limbs feel heavy, sluggish, as if I’m moving underwater. The past two weeks are a blur of expensive meals, luxury shopping, and Veronica’s constant presence by my side. Her scent is everywhere—on my clothes, in my hair, seeping into my very skin.

“To the penthouse, please,” she instructs the driver as we climb into the car.

“Actually, Alpha President,” the driver says, addressing me rather than her, “I’ve been instructed to take you to the Presidential Office first. There’s an urgent matter requiring your attention.”

“Urgent?” I frown. In the fog of my mind, urgency feels like a foreign concept. “What is it?”

“I wasn’t given details, sir. Just told to bring you directly there.”

I glance at Veronica, who’s pouting now. “But we just got back,” she whines. “Surely whatever it is can wait until tomorrow.”

The driver clears his throat uncomfortably. “I was told it’s quite pressing, ma’am.”

Something stirs in me—a vague sense of duty, of responsibility. “It’s alright,” I say to Veronica. “We should see what it is.”

She huffs but doesn’t argue further, just stares out the window as the car pulls away from the airport. I find myself doing the same, watching the city pass by. Something about the skyline seems both familiar and strange, like looking at a place I’ve only seen in dreams.

But before I know it, we’re pulling up to my office building. The driver holds the door for us, and Veronica takes my arm as we walk inside. The security personnel nod respectfully as we pass, but there’s something off about the way they’re looking at me.

Surprise? Concern?

Disappointment?

“Alpha President,” a voice calls, and I turn to see a young man hurrying toward us. He’s carrying a folder and looking slightly frazzled, and… he’s wearing a silver Beta pin. “Welcome back, sir. We’re so glad you’ve returned.”

I frown. “You’re not my Beta. Where’s Ezra?”

Veronica stiffens beside me. The young man’s face turns ashen, and he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before Veronica gently touches my arm and whispers in my ear, “Ezra is no longer under your employment, my love. He betrayed you… remember?”

Right. I forgot. For a moment, it almost seemed as if his reason for being terminated was completely absurd, but I remember now.

“I understand there’s something urgent?” I say, clearing my throat.

“Yes, sir. Among other matters.” The young man—my Beta, apparently, although I don’t quite recall hiring him, especially someone so young and timid—glances at Veronica, then back to me. “If you’d follow me to your office?”

We do, and I’m struck by how unfamiliar my own office feels. Has it always been this way—all dark wood and leather, with abstract art on the walls? For some reason, I expect to see something else. A painting, perhaps, of… what? The thought slips away.

“So what’s this urgent matter?” I ask, settling into the chair behind my desk. Veronica perches on the edge of the desk, checking her nails.

The Beta hands me the folder. “Several things require your immediate attention, sir. Policy documents that need signing, appointments that need confirming, and…” He hesitates.

“And?”

“There’s a major charity gala tomorrow night, sir. It was announced while you were away, and it’s… well, it’s become quite the event. Everyone who’s anyone in Ordan will be there.”

I frown as I leaf through the papers in the folder. “A charity gala? What for?”

“Arts education for underprivileged children, sir. The proceeds will fund free art classes at the Marsiel Gallery, as well as scholarships to Wellington Academy for talented young artists.”

Something about this makes me pause. Wellington Academy. Art classes. Marsiel Gallery. There’s a flicker of… something in the back of my mind. A memory trying to surface, only to be smothered by the fog.

“And why does this require my urgent attention?” I ask, tossing the folder back onto my desk.

The Beta shifts uncomfortably. “Well, sir, given your recent absence, and the, uh, public perception of your… vacation, it would be… inadvisable to miss an event of this magnitude.”

Beside me, Veronica straightens. “Public perception? What are you implying, boy?”

The Beta’s face reddens. “Nothing, ma’am. Just that there’s been some, uh, commentary in the press about the Alpha President being away for so long. Attending this gala would be a good opportunity to show his commitment to Ordan and its citizens.”

“He’s right,” I mutter, rubbing my temples. “If I miss this, it’ll look bad. Especially after being gone for so long.”

“But we just got back,” Veronica protests again. “Couldn’t we send a donation instead?”

“A donation isn’t the same as showing up.” I tilt my chin at the boy. “Who’s hosting this gala anyway?”

He blinks. “That’s, uh, that’s not entirely clear, sir.”

“What do you mean it’s not clear? Someone has to be behind it.”

“Well, yes, but… it’s been presented as more of a citywide effort. Multiple organizations, schools, orphanages, and donors are involved. There’s no single host.”

I frown. It’s unusual for an event of this size not to have a clear organizer. Something about it feels… orchestrated. But through the fog in my mind, I can’t quite grasp why that should concern me.

“How many people are expected to attend?” I ask.

“Hundreds, sir. It’s completely sold out. All the major donors, school principals, orphanage directors, artists, celebrities…” The Beta trails off, shrugging. “Everyone.”

I lean back in my chair, considering. A major charity event for a good cause, attended by everyone of importance in Ordan, right on the heels of my extended absence? I really can’t afford to miss it, no matter how tired I am from the trip.

“When and where is it?”

“Tomorrow night at the Marsiel Gallery, sir. Starting at eight o’clock.”

Tomorrow. That doesn’t leave much time to prepare. But then again, it’s just a gala. I’ve attended hundreds in my time as President.

“Make sure we’re on the list,” I tell the Beta. “The both of us.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll handle it right away.” He looks relieved, as if he expected more resistance.

“Is there anything else?” I ask.

“Just these policies that need your signature, sir. And there are several council members who would like to meet with you as soon as possible to discuss matters that arose during your absence.”

I nod, taking the stack of papers he offers. “I’ll review these tonight and schedule the meetings for tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir.” The Beta bows slightly and backs toward the door. “And welcome back to Ordan.”

As the door closes behind him, Veronica slides off the desk and onto my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. “So we have to go to this boring gala,” she sighs. “At least I can show off my new tan.”

“It’ll be fine,” I assure her, although I’m not entirely convinced myself. There’s something nagging at the back of my mind, something important that I’m forgetting. But every time I try to focus on it, her scent overwhelms me, and the fog returns.

“I suppose,” she says, running her finger along my jaw. “But if we have to attend, I want to make an impression. After all, it’ll be our first public appearance since we announced our engagement.”

I blink. Engagement? Right. We’re engaged. The citrine ring on her finger catches the light, and for a moment, I’m struck by a sense of wrongness so profound it makes my stomach churn.

But then Veronica shifts, and her scent fills my nostrils once more. The wrongness fades, replaced by that now-familiar fog. Soft. Comfortable. Unquestioning.

“Darling,” Veronica purrs, “are you listening to me?”

“Sorry,” I say, focusing on her face. “What were you saying?”

“I was saying that this gala might not be such a bad thing after all. It’ll give us a chance to show off. To let everyone see how happy we are together.” Her smile is dazzling, but there’s something calculated in her eyes. “Don’t you think?”

“Of course,” I agree automatically. “We’ll make quite the entrance.”

“And speaking of making an entrance,” she says, hopping off my lap and pulling me to my feet, “I have nothing suitable to wear. None of my current gowns will do for something this important.”

I frown. Despite the countless shopping trips during our vacation, despite the dozens of new dresses hanging in her closet, she always needs more.

But that damn fog returns just as I’m about to protest, and instead I smile and murmur, “Anything you want, dear.”

Veronica’s smile widens as she loops her arm through mine and leads me toward the door. “Let’s go shopping now, darling. I need something extravagant for tomorrow night!”