All Chapters of The Alpha King Is Our Daddy: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Adeline’s POVThe moment the children ran off, silence fell over the park like a dropped curtain. The only sounds left were the distant hum of their laughter and the soft rustle of leaves overhead.Vincent stood a few feet away, sunlight carving hard lines across his face. His shadow stretched toward me, long and sharp, and I could already feel the tension gathering between us before he even opened his mouth.“Whatever you came here to say,” I said quietly, keeping my voice steady, “just say it.”His eyes narrowed slightly. “Fine.” He took a slow step closer, his tone clipped, controlled—but beneath it, a dangerous emotion simmered. “Then tell me…whose bed were you in last night?”The words hit like a slap.For a second, I thought I’d misheard. My lips parted, but no sound came out. He waited, his gaze unflinching, cruelly calm.“What?” I managed finally, my voice low.“You heard me,” he said, every syllable deliberate. “Who was it? Which man did you spend your heat with?”Time seemed

Adeline’s POVThe notice came early that morning, printed in crisp black letters and delivered by hand.I was in the lab when the nurse brought it in — a short letter sealed with the hospital’s insignia and stamped with the crest of the palace. My heart sank the moment I saw that symbol. I didn’t need to read the content to know whose shadow lingered behind it.Still, I forced my fingers to unfold the page.“Dr. Lean is requested to serve as chief consultant for the upcoming joint research between the Royal Office and the Human Medical Board. The Alpha King has expressed interest in meeting with the doctor overseeing the project.”Vincent Veylor.Even the way they phrased it… “the Alpha King” made my stomach twist. The man I once loved had become an institution. A title. A wall of power I had no wish to face again.I pressed the paper flat against the table, staring at it until the words blurred. The machines hummed softly around me, the scent of antiseptic and coffee thick in the air

Adeline’s POVI froze at my workstation. The data logs were wrong—rows missing, timestamps shifted. Half of my research files had been wiped from the main terminal. The encryption I’d built myself was still intact, but the records behind it were gone. Vanished clean, as if they had never existed.Someone had stolen my work.I slammed the cabinet shut, heart pounding. “Clara!”She appeared in the doorway, breathless. “What happened?”“Check the access records,” I snapped. “Someone used my clearance this morning.”She hesitated, then turned to the terminal, fingers flying. The monitor flickered, revealing an entry stamped six hours ago—my ID code, my signature. But I hadn’t been here.The pit in my stomach hardened.Clara looked up. “It’s your login. But the timestamp doesn’t match your shift.”I didn’t need to guess. I already knew.Evelyn.My sister.“Lock the rest,” I said quietly. “Everything you can. Backup files. Private drives. Don’t let anyone touch them.”“Lean—what’s going on?

Adeline’s POVBy the time I left the lab, my head was pounding.The hum of machinery, the sharp scent of disinfectant, the endless rows of glowing data screens — all of it had blurred into a single, dull ache behind my eyes.Mathias waited near the exit, hands in his pockets, his coat half-unbuttoned. “You look like someone who hasn’t eaten in days,” he said, his voice laced with concern.I gave a tired smile. “Maybe because I haven’t.”“Then that’s settled.” He reached for the elevator button. “Dinner. No excuses.”“I have reports…”He raised a brow. “You’ll collapse on your desk if you go back up there.”I sighed but didn’t argue. “Fine. Dinner it is.”He smiled like he’d just won a small war.We picked a quiet place near the river — one of those discreet restaurants where no one looked twice at wolves or humans sharing a table. The lights were low, the air soft with the scent of grilled herbs and wine. For the first time in days, I let my body relax into the chair.Mathias ordered

Vincent’s POV“Doctor Anderson,” Rowan said, curtly. “He’s here.”Dr. Anderson didn’t bother with ceremony. He folded his hands as if the room were his operating theater. His eyes surveyed everyone present like he owned the air we were breathing. “Your Majesty,” he nodded once, then his eyes slid toward Delilah. It had this little spark like he was patronizing. “I’ve been briefed. A child with hybrid traits. Of course, it’s politically delicate and that makes it more interesting.”Delilah’s mother exhaled in a pleased, protective manner. Her father sat straighter, the perfect portrait of a composed man. Delilah herself folded her hands and had a smile so rehearsed it might as well have been stitched into her skin. She watched Anderson like someone watching a play she sponsored but secretly feared the end.He wasted no time. “Let me speak plainly female surgeons seldom hold the rigor needed for cases like this. Young female surgeons, especially those who favor the new trends, are emoti