Page 12 of The Alpha's Chosen Outcast

Father of the Bride: Richard Hanover

Brother: Trey Hanover

Bridal Party: TBD

I have to keep it together. This woman is going to be here any minute. The Alpha’s fuckingdaughter.How am I going to do this? I have to at least meet her right now to keep up the pretenses. I don’t have time to run. I have to think. They’ll find me unless I have a plan.

I hear the door open, and I sit down at the back table to wait for Violet. I hear her heels clicking on the floor, getting closer. When she appears in the doorway, she is the picture of femininity.

She looks like a member of the Alpha’s family. If I hadn’t already known, I’d have been able to tell by her smell and attire. Both aristocratic.

She’s wearing a dusty pink skirt suit with a ruffled rose pink blouse underneath, matching shoes, and a designer bag. Her makeup is perfect. Her hair, a darker brown than mine, is shiny and twisted into a chignon at the back of her neck.

I instantly feel like hot mess in my leggings and tank dress. My hair is probably still frizzy from the plane and me constantly running my fingers through it.

She puts a hand out. “Hello, I’m Violet Hanover. I thought I was meeting Jessie.”

Wow, she doesn’t miss a beat. I hope she doesn’t end up disappointed. I’m already dealing with the terror of my identity being discovered.

I take her hand in a firm shake. “No, Jessie sent me. The design you wanted is one of my signature pieces. I’m the tailor who does all the intricate beading.”

Her eyebrows hiked in delight. “Then you’re the one I want.”

She sits down across from me and takes a folder out of her purse.

“I brought some inspo photos. I wanted to have the visuals here instead of on a screen. I’m okay with you emailing me, but I want to see pencil-on-paper sketches, too. Is that something you can do?”

I think I’m in the clear on the recognition-as-an-exile front, so I take my seat.

“Absolutely, yes. I always do paper and pencil sketches to start so I can scan them in for you, or you can come see them in person.”

“You can scan them in unless I tell you I’m coming down.”

“Right, okay, so let’s take a look at these inspo photos.”

We get into it about her exact specifications. This is the part I love, and I try to let the rest go and concentrate on the dress. She’s on her phone a lot, too.

She says she’s talking to her fiancé, but she doesn’t want him seeing the dress. After about an hour and a half, she’s looking around behind her.

“Are you expecting your fiancé to come in? I can hide these inspo photos.”

“No,” she says, still twisted around in her seat, “I’m waiting for my brother. He’s my ride.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, is that okay?” It was a challenge more than a question.

“Well, I was told I’d only be seeing you and that this design would be top secret.”

Violet waves her hand at me, “He’s fine. He won’t say anything, don’t worry. He knows nothing about haute couture, anyway.”

The panic builds again as I hear the door open and heavy footfalls head toward us. The dark-haired man who fills the doorway a moment later blocks out half the light. When he lays eyes on me, he sniffs the air.

He knows. He fucking knows.

In the next second, he has me by my throat and up against the wall. Violet is screaming at him to let me go. I see his fangs protrude, and his claws pin me to the wall.

I can barely breathe. I didn’t think it would take this long for someone to discover me. I thought I’d have more time to plan an escape.

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