#Chapter 189: The Pretender

Iris A cold fury overtakes me at the she-wolf’s words. For a moment, I’m certain I could do it—rip that snake from Arthur’s side and tear her to pieces with my bare hands. No. With my fangs. But I blink, and the vision is gone in a flash. There is no wolf standing behind them. There is no blood. Just Arthur, sitting behind his new mahogany desk, with his new trophy wife perched on his lap. I clench my jaw so hard my teeth ache and force myself to tamp down the rage. They’re both watching me, and there’s no doubt now in my mind that Veronica is gleefully waiting for me to do something rash. I need to be smart about this. Professional. I’m here for Ordan, not to make a scene. “Arthur,” I say, lifting my chin and focusing solely on him, “I’d like to speak with you in private, please.” Arthur looks at me, and for a brief moment, something flickers in his eyes—regret? Pain? Whatever it is, it’s gone so quickly I wonder if I imagined it. “Anything you have