Chapter 237
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 commente overwhelmingly positive toward me, praising my grace and maturity in handling what could have been an explos situation.
Many who had been on the fence about me seem to have swung firmly into my camp after tonight.
1/2
Chapter 237
#TeamIris is even trending.
+40 Bonus
“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.”
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