Claimed by My Bestie's Alpha Daddy novel Chapter 35

“And let me make one thing very clear: I’m not trying to be Richard. I’m just trying to help people. And if your mind immediately equates that with Richard, then maybe that’s the best compliment a leader could hope for. Because if compassion, clarity, and conviction remind you of him, then maybe we should all be trying a little harder to live up to that standard.”

A few Alphas looked away. One nodded. Vexen’s face had gone stone still.

By the time the forum ended, the tension in the room had cracked like a plate dropped on stone.

Simon fell into step beside me in the hallway, still clutching a half–empty coffee cup like he’d forgotten it was there. “You just chewed through three egos like they were rawhide,” he muttered, glancing sideways at me. “Didn’t even blink.”

I kept walking, adrenaline still humming beneath my skin. “They brought an uneducated stick to a gunfight.”

He gave a low whistle. “You didn’t just hold your own. You dismantled them–quoted precedent, cited their own advisors, and still managed to sound like you were doing them a favor.”

“Maybe I was,” I said, glancing ahead. “If they can’t handle a few hard truths in front of their peers, they’ve got no business negotiating with foreign packs.”

Simon let out a low laugh. “You know what that was, right?”

“What?”

“Alpha energy.”

I snorted, but I didn’t deny it.

I let out a breath and smiled. “They never expect a clean kill.”

Back in my suite, the envelope waited like a trap. No markings. Just my name.

Inside: a photo of my parents. Younger. Smiling. Someone had scrawled “TRAITORS” across the bottom in harsh black ink.

My breath stalled. I stared, one hand braced on the edge of the desk.

Then I moved–slow, careful, deliberate. I folded the photo, locked it in my bottom drawer, and sat down like I hadn’t just felt the floor shift under me.

My hands shook as I organized the briefing notes for Richard.

His office smelled like coffee and cedar. He looked up the moment I entered.

“Tampering,” I said, handing him the folder. “Vote drafts being altered before signoff. Subtle changes in phrasing. Enough to shift intent.”

He flipped through the pages. His jaw tightened. “You traced it?”

I nodded. “To a device with known admin access.”

His shoulders stiffened, but he said nothing.

“They’re coming after you now,” he said.

I stood taller. “Let them.”

He rose, came around the desk. We were barely a breath apart.

“I should’ve kept you out of this,” he said.

I shook my head. “You couldn’t have. I’m not your shadow, Richard. I’m part of this.”

His gaze searched mine. There was something unspoken in it, some war he hadn’t yet let himself lose.

I took a step closer. “And I need you to stand beside me when the arrows start to fly.” Emma met me outside the data center. She was already scrolling through logs, her brow furrowed.

“There,” she said. “That entry–it bypassed two layers of encryption and hit the live policy bank.”

I squinted at the metadata. “Device ID?”

She pointed. I recognized it instantly.

Adam.

Of course it was him.

I printed the file, slid it into a folder, and snapped the cover shut.

“I’ll take it from here.”

“Want backup?” she asked.

I pulled out my phone, thumbed open the voice recorder, and hit record. “Say it again.”

He looked at the phone, then back at me. “I… I altered the drafts. I sent them to Jenny. I just wanted to matter.”

I stopped the recording and forwarded it directly to Beta’s secured line.

“You’re lucky I’m giving you a chance to resign,” I said. “Write your letter. Make it clean. Save what little dignity you have left.”

I turned to leave, but paused at the door, looking over my shoulder.

“Next time you feel small,” I said, voice even and cold, “try earning something instead of stealing it. You always made me feel small, Adam–like I was lucky to be standing beside you, like I owed you space I carved for myself. But now everyone sees it. You weren’t my partner. You were the dead weight I carried while pretending it was teamwork.”

He didn’t speak. He just stared at the papers on his desk, eyes vacant.

Word spread like wildfire. It always did.

By the time I stepped into the west corridor, eyes were already following me. I caught whispers behind coffee cups. A logistics officer gave me a double take before disappearing into an elevator. Two guards snapped to attention as I passed.

I didn’t slow down. I didn’t smile. I just kept walking. There was a ripple of presence around me now–gravity had shifted. Not everyone knew what had happened, but they could feel it. And they knew it had come from me.

Jenny found me outside the archives just before midday. Her heels echoed like gunshots, sharp and fast.

“You think you’ve won something?” she hissed, closing the space between us. “You just made enemies in every direction.”

I met her eyes with a level gaze. “Then I’ll start keeping a list.”

She sneered. “You’re so sure of yourself. So righteous. But we both know what you are.”

“I’m someone who knows what side of history I want to stand on.”

She laughed–cold and bitter. “You’re just playing hero in a story that isn’t yours. You don’t belong in this world.”

“Funny,” I said, folding my arms, “that’s what I thought about you.”

We stood there in silence. She looked like she wanted to say more, but then she didn’t. She just turned and walked away, spine stiff, steps forced and fast.