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Fifty one: Disappointment

Autor: Black Rose
last update Fecha de publicación: 2026-04-29 19:01:22

DAMIEN

They were sitting in the formal reception room when I walked in.

Vivienne’s parents. Gerald and Mona. The couple was somewhere in their fifties, dressed carefully, as though they’d known this meeting was coming and had prepared for it.

Gerald had his hands on his knees. Mona had a handkerchief she wasn’t using yet but had ready.

Vivienne sat beside her mother with her eyes down.

I remained standing.

“Alpha Damien.” Gerald started immediately, leaning forward. “We want you to know, firs
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  • Meant To Be Daddy’s: Claimed By My Fiance’s Father   Eighty five: Ghost

    DAMIENHOURS EARLIERThe northern pass cut through neutral territory along a ridge road that most packs avoided because the surface was poor and the drop on the eastern side was considerable. Callum knew it because Callum knew every road within a hundred kilometres of the pack that could be used in an emergency.This qualified.We’d made good time. It lets you believe a plan is working, that the variables are under control, that you will arrive before the thing you’re trying to prevent arrives first.I should have known better.The road to Koval from the north descended off the ridge and flattened out into a long, straight stretch flanked on both sides by dense forest. Mature trees, the kind that had been growing long enough to make the canopy overhead nearly continuous, the light filtering through in pieces rather than steadily.It was Callum who saw it first.“Slow down,” he said.I was already easing off before he finished the words. Something in the quality of the road ahead had

  • Meant To Be Daddy’s: Claimed By My Fiance’s Father   Eighty four: Into Light

    SERAPHINAThe motel had seen better decades.It sat at the edge of the small cluster of buildings we’d walked back to, a single-storey structure with a car park that was more pothole than surface and a sign that had lost two of its letters at some point and never had them replaced. The woman at the desk was somewhere in her sixties, broad-shouldered, with the unhurried energy of someone who had been running this place long enough to have stopped being surprised by anything that came through the door.She looked at the three of us. “Two rooms left.”“We’ll take them,” Shane said.She slid the keys across the desk without further comment.The rooms were adjacent, small and clean in the functional way of places that prioritized function over everything else. Two single beds in one room, one double in the other. We stood in the corridor between them and looked at the arrangement.“Girls take the double,” Shane said.“Shane—” I started.“I have two single beds to myself,” he said. “I’m f

  • Meant To Be Daddy’s: Claimed By My Fiance’s Father   Eighty three: Stuck

    SERAPHINANadia had been staring at her phone for forty minutes.Not reading it. Staring at it. In the way people stared at things that had said something they were still processing.“He texted,” she said.I turned from the window. “Who.”She gave me a look that said the question was unnecessary.“Callum texted you,” I said.“Last night.” She turned the phone over in her hands. “After.”“What did he say?”She turned the phone over again. Then over again. “He said he’d been thinking.”“About?”“About what happened.” She looked out the window. “He said it wasn’t something he wanted to dismiss.”Shane glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “That’s good.”“Is it?” Nadia said. “Because I was supposed to be a decoy. I was not supposed to actually create a situation that now requires navigation.” She pressed her phone flat against her knee. “I am in soup, Sera. Very thick soup. I don’t know how to get out of it.”“Maybe you don’t get out of it,” I said. “Maybe you stay in the soup.”“Th

  • Meant To Be Daddy’s: Claimed By My Fiance’s Father   Eighty two: Upper hand

    DAMIENElder Brone was talking about the eastern perimeter.I knew this because I could see his mouth moving, and the map in front of him had the eastern perimeter circled in red; everyone else at the table was looking at it with the appropriate level of concern.I was thinking about Seraphina turning away from me in the hallway.The kiss. The way she’d held my jacket and the way she’d stepped back after and looked at me with those eyes that saw everything and said now what? as if she was genuinely asking and had no idea the answer was the most complicated thing I’d ever been given.And then the morning. Nothing. She’d come down for breakfast and taken her coffee and said good morning to Agnes and looked at me the way she looked at the furniture, present and unremarkable, and I had sat across from her and felt something I had no appropriate name for.She had rejected me with her eyes over a cup of coffee.Which was not a sentence I had ever expected to construct about myself.“Alpha

  • Meant To Be Daddy’s: Claimed By My Fiance’s Father   Eighty one: Reveal

    SERAPHINAThe plan was simple.Nadia at the door. Me inside. In and out before anyone noticed.“You’re asking me to be a decoy,” Nadia said.“I’m asking you to stand in a corridor,” I said. “Which you do naturally and for free.”“I want the record to show that I am doing this under duress.”“Noted. Stand here.”I slipped into Damien’s study and pulled the door almost closed behind me.The room was exactly as it always was. Ordered, purposeful, smelling like him in a way I was choosing not to think about given that twenty hours ago he’d kissed me in the hallway and neither of us had spoken about it since.‘Now I fuck you till you remember who you belong to.”I’d walked out on him, while knowing I’d regret it. But he’d been with Clarissa. I hadn’t processed that truth at all. Focus. I needed to focus. I went to the desk first. Top drawer, already knew it was unlocked. Stationery, paper clips, and a spare key to something I hadn’t identified yet. No phone.Second drawer. Locked. I had

  • Meant To Be Daddy’s: Claimed By My Fiance’s Father   Eighty: Clash

    DAMIENThe drive to Clarissa’s suite was way too quiet. She sat in the passenger seat with her hands in her lap, looking out the window. I drove, and neither of us was able to perform normally, because we were both past the point where that would have been possible.When I pulled up outside the accommodation building she turned to me.“Thank you,” she said. Simply. No decoration around it.“For what specifically,” I asked with raised brows. Didn’t even know why I did that. “For tonight.” She paused. “For being there. For dancing badly.”“I wasn’t that bad.”“You were that bad,” she said, and there was warmth in it, real and uncomplicated. She looked at me for a moment with those clear green eyes. “Do you want to come in?”I looked at the building.I thought about it honestly, which was the least I owed her. Thought about what going in would mean and what it would cost both of us in the morning and whether the version of myself that wanted to go in was doing it for the right reasons

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