The Rejected True Heiress (Liora) novel Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Callum

Student Council paperwork was the dullest form of power. Dozens of requests for toilet maintenance, field

reservations, and flower bed budgets. Thomas was sitting across from me, cross–legged on the floor like a

camp counselor, sorting through club applications with more enthusiasm than I could ever fake.

“For the love of–why do the fencing kids need glow–in–the–dark swords?” I asked, holding up a neon–green sketch of some idiot’s idea of ‘modern combat style.‘

“Night duels,” Thomas said without looking up. “It’s better then just plain swords at night. Someone would lose an eye.”

My brow flattened and flipped the form into the “we’ll see” pile, which was code for “absolutely not.”

I skimmed the next proposal, eyes moving but brain entirely elsewhere. Focus had left the building about three

hours ago. I blamed it on the absurd number of homecoming details still up in the air, the looming arranged

marriage, and–unfortunately–Liora.

My fingers tightened around the page as the memory flickered in, unwelcome but vivid.

Her, leaping out of that window. Her hair catching moonlight, pajamas rippling, landing in front of me like the

world had an affection for her.

I felt heat creep up my neck and immediately scowled at myself, pushing back from the desk.

Ridiculous.

I crossed the room and cracked the window, letting in a gust of cold air sharp enough to slap me back to my

senses.

Focus, I told myself.

That’s when the door creaked open.

“Sorry,” I started as I turned back to my desk. “We aren’t taking visitors or requests-”

“How about for your future wife?”

I stiffened, lowering to my chair.

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I clearly hadn’t suffered enough today as Bianca stepped in like she owned the floor tiles. One foot in, then the other, her heels clicking like a metronome of tension. She didn’t knock. She never knocked. Her perfume hit the room before she did, full of jasmine and power.

Thomas looked up, read the room in two seconds, and muttered something about getting more folders before vanishing like smoke.

I sat back in my chair. “How can I help you?”

She smiled. Tight, clearly wanting something. “So formal.”

“I’m working.”

She glanced down, running a long nail over my desk. “I see.”

“Bianca,” I asked again, “Do you need something? Is it urgent?”

“Well,” she sat on my desk, her skirt ridding up far more then comfortable. “You’ve been busy.”

“The ever going threat of crippling bureaucracy and failure tends to pile up when you’re trying to keep the school and packs from imploding. Imagine that.”

Her head tilted. “Yeah,

My eyes narrowed agine. That sounds so hard.” He hand covered mine over the desk.

She continued, “It’s just, for someone so worried about reputation, you don’t seem to be taking it seriously. Us, seriously.”

My hand flipped up, squeezing hers despite the pit in my stomach. “Why would you say that? I’m trying my best, Bianca.”

She squeezed my hand back, but her face was still displeased. “Well, it’s just…Imagine my surprise when I heard about your little midnight walk.”

Oh. Oh.

“I saw her, that is correct,” I said flatly. “We didn’t stoll though, I was apologizing. For my parents behavior. Big difference, but is the role of an heir.”

She didn’t laugh. She just stared, long enough that I felt like I was being measured.

“Callum,” she said sweetly, “don’t insult my intelligence. You were with her.”

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I didn’t bother pretending. “Yes, like I said, we talked.”

“You didn’t tell me. Plus, you don’t talk to people. Not unless you want something from them.”

“I talk to people all day,” I corrected swiftly. “And what if I just wanted conversation?” I raised a brow. “Groundbreaking, I know, but I did nothing wrong. There was no physical contact. It was business.”

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She leaned forward, something in her eyes trying ot lock me in place. “I know we’ve talked about this before, so i’m only going to saw this one more time, Callum. I am the Female Alpha, your arranged partner. You will have respect for me. You need to stop seeing her.”

I leaned back in my chair, taking my hand from her hold and folding my hands. “You need to explain why.”

“You know why.”

I shrugged. “This request is illogical. We go to the same school, Bianca. I can’t exactly banish her to a different hallway.”

“I’m serious,” she said, voice low. “I’ve been lenient. But this… whatever this obsession is, it’s making you, us,

sloppy.”

“I’m not obsessed.” I scoffed, though it tasted hollow. “We talked. That’s it.”

Her expression darkened. “You still want to marry me, don’t you?”

That made me pause.

“Is that a threat or a proposal?”

“Callum.”

I sighed and looked away. “Of course I’m going to marry you.”

Not interesting at all

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