Chapter 173

Almara’s Pov

The day has progressively gotten worse. Arthur’s received an email from an unhappy publicist, again. Something about how fans are writing in their hurt that the Covingtons would have something to do with burning down a government building, an orphanage no less.

We haven’t even been charged with anything, not that we could, but it seems people are already making up their minds about the situation.

Some are writing in that burning something to the ground just because you don’t agree with the systems and regulations is peak privilege. Others are writing they won’t be buying Covington sports gear anymore.

Arthur blew it off when just a handful wrote in their boycott, but after the hundredth notification and with the hashtag cancel Convington’s trending on social, I can see the worry lines deepening on Arthur’s forehead.

Roman’s out once again trying to do damage control, this time with Elenor at his side. Roman says he likes when she tags along because it reminds the public that they’re a family first. A family that sets fire to orphanages nonetheless. I shake my head. I can’t judge.

I know exactly why Arthur allowed Reese to follow through with that plan. Besides, he did make sure no one would be inside. If I really felt that Arthur was being sinister and not revengeful for his family, I wouldn’t be wrapping my arms around his broad chest at the moment.

Arthur closes the top of his laptop and rubs his temples.

“It’ll pass.” I tell him and I mean it. “Look at everything else that’s happened that no one is talking about anymore. It’s just the latest thing going on.”

“I hope you’re right.” He says. “This just . . . it feels different.”

I lower my chin to rest on his shoulders. “Hm, maybe that’s guilt you’re feeling over burning down an orphanage,” I say and nibble on his ear. Arthur brings his head down on top of mine.

“I didn’t burn down an orphanage.” He says and I know he knows that I’m joking, but he’s still going to defend himself. “I just made it so they have to repair an already hazardous building.” I playfully roll my eyes.

“Of course,” I say. “Arthur Covington never feels guilt.”

“That’s right.” Arthur says and turns to give me a quick peck on the lips. “Do you want to go out tonight? I feel like we need a night of fun.”

Although I was enjoying our lazy afternoon, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to get a little dolled up and have a night out in the town. Some fun may be a good idea. “Okay.” I agree.

An hour later Roman and Elenor have returned and agreed to watch Grace.

Roman was less than satisfied with how the PR presses went so he was happy that we wanted get dressed up and go out. He said something about how maybe the more youthful ones of the Covington’s can bedazzle the crowds with our looks. This, of course, upset Elenor.

Arthur and I do look good though. I’ve slipped into an emerald silk green cocktail dress with some studded gold earrings. I take a seat on the armchair to put on a pair of black wedges. The dress slides up my thigh like an invitation and Arthur’s eyes sweep up and down over me.

“You look-” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t have to. Maybe it’s still the glow of being reunited with my family, but I know I look good. And, I don’t just look good but I feel good too.

“So do you.” I say and make a show of myself checking him out. He’s got light grayish-blue dress pants that are tailored to perfection, paired with a cream dress top, the sleeves buttoned at his forearms to show off the gold cufflinks.

“Where are we going by the way?” I ask.

“We are going to be attending The View.” He says while holding the front door open for me. I raise my eyebrows in knowing anticipation. The View is extremely exclusive. A rooftop bar that overlooks the entire city, there’s usually a waiting list months out.

I guess all those emails and notes from his publicists have really made Arthur want to restore his ego, but I don’t tell him that. I’ll just happy tag along for the ride.

We take a limo there. Arthur and I sit in the back on the wrap around leather seats sipping on champagne. It almost feels like the last several months have all been a bad dream. I can’t believe how much I’ve actually missed our enriching nights out. Even more, I can’t believe this is what’s now considered normal in my life.

I have my ankles draped across Arthur’s thigh has he gently strokes my calf. It kind of tickles, but I kind of like it. “You need more dresses like that.” Arthur says, letting his eyes lazily move across my body.

“As you say, Mr. Covington.” I flirt, tipping the glass up to my lips. The fizz of the bubbly becomes smooth going down my throat. I think tonight will finally be a good night.

We roll up to the club and wait for the driver to open our car doors. There’s already a line of people standing behind a red rope standing on their tippy toes trying to see if any progress has been made.

Arthur takes my hand and helps me out of the car. A few people look our way, a few roll their eyes. Before I would chalk that up to usual haters, but now I wonder if it’s related to the recent news circulating. We did nothing wrong. I keep telling myself.

I refuse to let anything ruin this fun night. So what if a couple random people want to judge us. You can’t please everybody. Arthur keeps his hand interlocked with mine, something I hope I never get used to.

He’s proud to mark me as his, even with all these lingering eyes of other beautiful women on him. He keeps his head high and shoulders back, paying no attention to the line of people as he walks past them all and up to the bouncer.

“Good Evening, Sir.” Arthur says and gives a charming smile that even makes me swoon. The bouncer still has his eyes downcast on his clipboard.

“Covington.” Arthur says, though I’m sure the bouncer would know that if he would just look up, which he does only after Arthur’s given his name. Arthur shifts stop move past the rope, but the rope was never lifted up. Arthur gives a puzzled look.

“It’s the Alpha and Luna. We’d like to go inside.” Arthur says. A twinge of nerves prick at the pack of my neck causing a break of cold sweat at my temples.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” The bouncer says.

“Excuse me?” Arthur says, still keeping his tone level but growing more stern. The bouncer is a bulky man. He definitely doesn’t seem like the type you want to get in a fight with, but then again you also don’t want to be on the bad side of the Alpha either.

Suddenly it feels like we’re in a power war. One about physical bruteness which is in the favor of the bouncer and the other being a power of just about everything else.

The bouncer lowers his voice, I assume out of respect so others don’t hear us get turned away. “Given recent events, I don’t think you being here is good business for the club.” Arthur looks as though he just got slapped across the face, but quickly composes himself wit ha laugh.

“This is a joke right? You know once we’re inside there will be a flock more people waiting in that line wanting to get in.” Arthur says and I hear someone unnecessarily cough behind us, my face blooming with heat.

“It’s fine, Arthur. Let’s just go somewhere else.”

“No. This isn’t right.” Arthur says, his tone rising. The last thing we need is another fight. I dare to look at the line of people behind us and notice their curiosity has been peaked. Why isn’t the Alpha being allowed inside?

“I want to go somewhere else.” I tell him, knowing he won’t say no to me then. Thank the moon I was right. Arthur grunts.

“Thanks for the directions, the lady really wants to go that place. I’ll put in a good word for you.” Arthur says loudly enough so everyone can hear. A few have already lost interest, tending to their phones or dates. Others seem to have bought that we were only asking for directions.

The bouncer rolls his eyes but plays along. “No problem, man.” He says though not quite in the same theatrical way as Arthur. At least there’s still some respect to save us from the embarrassment, but how long will even that last?