?Chapter 55:

Turning back to Frieda and the in girl, I said firmly, “Just so we’re clear, I’m Jasmine. The Alpha’s Lady. You’ve got two choices: do your damn jobs like you’re paid to, or I’ll report you to the Alpha. You both know what it is to disrespect the Alpha Lady, don’t you?”

This wasn’t me being proud of a stupid position I’m never pleased with; this was me using what I had to put these darn bitches in their ce.

The nervous nces they exchanged almost made meugh. Frieda bowed hastily. “No, no, Alpha Lady! We’ll ensure yourfort immediately.” They bowed. Oh really? They can be this nice?

Frieda practically scurried to my side, offering me a personalized shopping experience, suddenly eager to please.

As we walked, I couldn’t resist onest jab at Isabelle. “You should probably leave,” I called out over my shoulder. “Your tacky style is shing with the store’s.” I blew her a kiss before turning back to enjoy my shopping spree, Lycan-style.

After browsing, two dresses caught my eye: a flowing ox-red gown with a halter neck and long sleeves, and a sleek ck satin jumpsuit with a sequined cape. Both looked incredible, but I was torn between them.

Seraphina, sensing my indecision, piped up. “You’d look amazing in both, but I think the red gown wouldplement your skin tone perfectly.”

I held the red dress against my chest and nodded. “You’re right. Red it is.” Turning to Seraphina, I smiled brightly. “Pick something for yourself, too. After bringing me here, you deserve a treat.”

Seraphina’s eyes widened in surprise. “The card was meant for you, ma’am. I couldn’t possibly—”

I waved her off, rolling my eyes at her humility. “I insist. Pick something you love.”

Her face lit up as she scanned the racks. She squealed with excitement, holding up a stunning emerald green dress. “This one! I’ve always wanted a dress like this.”

I grinned, happy to see her excitement. “It’s perfect. Get it.”

We piled our dresses into the arms of Emily (the in girl) and Frieda, heading to the counter. But just as I handed the cashier my card, Isabelle swooped in, her entourage carrying a mountain of clothes.

g?????0ν??????.??????, ???????????? ????????

“Add all of these to hers,” she said smugly, shing me a condescending smile.

I didn’t even blink. “I don’t think so, Isabelle. We came separately, so our bills will be separate.”

Her smile widened, but her eyes shed with annoyance. “You’ll do as I say. I’m the future Luna of this pack, and I have every right to use that card.”

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Fine. If you want to use the pack’s card, feel free to get it from the Alpha—your future husband.” I smirked, adding, “In the meantime, I’ll pay for myself.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. I half expected Isabelle to explode, but instead, she stood there, speechless.

Typing in the pin, I watched as the sales associate processed the bill. The amount I spent could’ve bought a small house, but it wasn’t my money; it was Ryder’s.

As soon as we stepped outside to the car, I let out a sigh of relief.

“Ma’am, you’ve just stepped on Isabelle’s toes. She’s going toe for you,” Seraphina said, her voice filled with concern.

I chuckled. “And I’m shaking in my boots.” I wiped a tear ofughter from my cheek, but Seraphina wasn’t amused.

If Isabelle was a green snake, I was more than prepared to crush her.

I blink. She blinks too. The replica staring back at me in the mirror? Yeah, that’s me. And damn, I look good. My hands fly to my mouth, a squeal escaping my lips. I could gush at this reflection all day! My eyes trail down my body, taking in every curve hugged perfectly by the red velvet dress Seraphina picked out. It flows all the way down to my feet, and I gotta say, I feel like a goddess. I’m not used to this. Dolled up like some princess? So not my style. But damn… “This is so freaking pretty!” I spin in a full circle, unable to stop the grin splitting my face.

Seraphina stands behind me, blushing like crazy. “I just did my job,” she mutters, all shy and humble.

“Girl, you did more than that.” I watch as she loosens my bun, pulling strands of hair to the front. She runs her fingers through, letting my chestnut locks fall over my shoulders like some waterfall from a shampoomercial.

.

.

.