Page 20 of The Alpha's Chosen Outcast

He smiles at that, his face softening, “Okay then, I’ll see you this afternoon.”

I leave, hoping that Father is as content with my explanation as he seems.

After changing and showering, I notice that the hot water has helped my sore muscles from sleeping in the bedside chair. I feel better. I head downstairs and find Violet in the kitchen.

“Are you ready to go?” She looks up. “I want to get down to the shop and talk to Heather.”

“Shh,” I say sharply and put a finger to my lips.

“What?”

“Don’t say that name. Just call her ‘the designer.’”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Trey. Don’t be so paranoid.”

“It’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you.”

She rolls her eyes at me, and I ignore her while I get my coffee in my favorite insulated mug.

“We can order coffee out, ya know.”

“I do know. But I like this coffee.”

“Snob.”

“Brat.”

She laughs and crosses her arms, plants a sneer on her face, and taps her foot while I take my time making my coffee.

I’m not letting my baby sister dictate my morning routine. Fuck that. After I have it all done, we head out, her carrying a comically large designer purse.

“What could you possibly need that you have to bring such a huge bag to go talk about a dress design at a bridal shop?”

She looks at the bag, then back at me. “I have my wedding shoes in here, the headpiece I’m using, swatches of the groom’s colors, and samples of the other stuff we have for the wedding venue decorations.”

“Why do you need any of that? She’s just showing you some sketches.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Because I’m a man?”

“Because you’re an idiot.”

I glare at her, and she stares right back as we walk outside and get into the car. We’ve done this many times before. The drivers have seen it, and the one we have today shakes his head and closes the door behind us. I call out our destination to him.

“We’re headed to the grocery store first?” Violet asks.

I look forward, “Yeah, the one on the corner before we get to the shop.”

Violet doesn’t gloat about winning our stare-down. “Why are we stopping there? Couldn’t you get one of the assistants to do that?”

I have to stop myself from bursting out laughing at how similar she is to our father.

“I can’t have an assistant stopping by the bridal shop with groceries. I don’t want to tell them what to get because then it’ll be obvious that someone is living there.

As far as the world and the pack know, you have a designer from Jessie’s personally designing your dress, and you don’t want anyone seeing it or knowing which designer it is because Heath—uh,herunique design style would give away your dress design.”

“Okay, so what does that have to do with anyone knowing she’s living there?”

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