Semua Bab Claimed by My Bestie's Alpha Daddy: Bab 1 - Bab 10

The instinct to scream was there—lodged somewhere behind my teeth—but it was like the rest of me had short-circuited. Every reflex froze.His muscles were carved, like someone had sculpted them out of stone and left them slick and glistening. Defined forearms, taut stomach, the faint dip between his hipbones where the crisp, white towel began. But it was his hands—veined, precise, impossibly strong-looking—that held me hostage.Water dripped from his jaw, trailing down his chest. I followed the drops—over his pecs, down the ridges of his abs—until they disappeared into the soft white terrycloth. I could feel the heat crawling up my neck, into my cheeks."Think you’ve seen enough now?"My head snapped up. My body reengaged. And then—oh no.Oh god, it was Richard. King Richard. My best friend’s father.Gorgeous, aloof, incredibly off-limits, Richard.He scowled. "How the hell did you get in here? This is a private room."I could tell he didn’t recognize me, which disappointed me somehow

AmeliaThe second Richard appeared, the room changed. The drunken laughter died off. The arrogant smirks vanished. People who had been acting like royalty themselves suddenly remembered who the actual king was. That’s how much power he held—just his presence could silence a room.He didn’t say a word. Just looked at the table, then the half-empty glasses, then at me.Jenny beat him to it, voice sharp and defensive. "Dad, why did you come here to ruin the vibes? We’re just having fun."I tried to speak—tried to say I didn’t feel good, that I needed to sit down—but the words got tangled in my throat. Or maybe they came out and no one heard. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything, except the heat in my cheeks, the way the ground tilted slightly under my feet, and how heavy everything suddenly felt.Maybe it was Richard being there. Maybe it was how drunk I clearly was. Whatever the reason, no one stopped me when I left.I found a cushioned bench in a quiet hallway and collapsed onto it

AmeliaThe door rattled hard, the locked handle clicking uselessly under Jenny’s impatient twist. I felt Richard’s warmth against my back, close enough that every slight shift of his muscles sent little waves through my spine.My breath caught as he leaned in, his voice deep and steady, the sound rolling through me as much as the words did.“Jenny? I just woke up,” he called out. “What the hell is wrong with you?”His chest was solid and warm, the heat soaking through my clothes, setting off all my nerves just under the surface. My whole body reacted, a pulse of heat low in my belly. My knees felt weak, my heart pounding too fast, completely giving away how flustered I was by how close he was.“I was wondering if I should have the chef make an extra breakfast?” Jenny’s voice came through the door, trying to sound casual—but she couldn’t hide how suspicious she was.“No, I’ll be right there,” Richard said firmly.We both let out a breath, tension easing—until my phone rang, sharp and l

AmeliaIt really is him, Richard.Beautiful, composed, devastatingly powerful Richard.His eyes sweep over me, and I feel them catch—taking in every wrinkle in my dress, every frizzed hair, every trace of the mess I’ve barely tried to clean up. Somehow I look even more chaotic now than when I left his room this morning.“Follow me,” he says, his voice low and commanding, echoing across the lobby like it was built just to hold the sound.Meredith, the receptionist who had been dripping with superiority just minutes ago, now bows her head so fast I almost hear her neck crack. The smugness is gone, replaced with total silence as Richard and I walk past like she’s suddenly remembered how ranks work.We head toward the elevator. I’ve been to the pack house before, but never this wing.The doors close behind us and suddenly we’re alone.Neither of us speaks.The silence is thick—full of things we’re both pretending not to think about. I try not to look at him, but he’s everywhere: the scent

AmeliaI checked the time on my phone again. Jenny was over an hour late—no text, no call, nothing. Typical. She asked to meet up, then vanished like it wasn’t a big deal.I wasn’t even annoyed—just resigned. That was how she operated. On her own schedule, with the world expected to wait. When she finally did show up, her steps were slow and her eyes distracted. She slid into the seat across from me, looking like someone who hadn’t slept in days.“Sorry,” she said, barely meeting my eyes. “Things ran long.”“You don’t have to apologize,” I replied, though this time—unlike every other time she’d thrown out a careless sorry—there was something about it that felt almost... real. A faint trace of actual remorse I wasn’t used to seeing from Jenny. It caught me off guard.We sat in silence for a minute. She tapped her nails on her cup, eyes fixed on nothing.“I didn’t know,” she finally said, voice low.I looked up. “Didn’t know what?”“That something happened to you at the mate ball. Not u