Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 61 Dec 24, 2025 POV: Lysander Two weeks of negotiations that aged me approximately seventeen years culminate in a conference room that smells like expensive leather and suppressed anxiety. The modified partnership agreement sits on the table between us-forty-three pages of legalese that Claire and her team systematically dismantled and rebuilt. The equity distribution is fixed, voting rights secured, protective clauses added that make hostile takeover nearly impossible without triggering exit provisions. It's not perfect. But it's workable.

Colorado operations remain substantially under Fenris control. Montgomery provides capital infusion and national network access without gutting our autonomy. Claire spent seventy hours on this revision and her exhaustion shows in the shadows under her eyes. "Shall we?" Robert Montgomery gestures toward the signature pages. He's smaller than I expected. Mid-sixties, gray at the temples, wearing a suit that costs what most people make in three months. But his eyes are sharp, calculating, missing absolutely nothing. Caroline sits beside him in navy again-her corporate armor.

Hair up, minimal jewelry, radiating competent professional energy that somehow makes her more attractive. My lawyers flank me. Claire directly to my right, close enough I can smell her familiar perfume mixed with stress and coffee. I sign first. Six copies, each page initialed, Robert's attorney witnessing with notary precision. Then Caroline signs as Montgomery Legal's representative. Her hand is steady, confident, none of the nervous energy she brings to coffee shops.

When we shake hands across the table, making the partnership official, electricity shoots up my arm with enough force to make my fingers twitch. She feels it too-I watch her breath catch, see her pupils dilate, notice how her hand lingers in mine for three seconds longer than professional. "To successful partnership." Robert raises his champagne glass with practiced ease. Everyone drinks. The champagne is excellent, probably costs more per bottle than my first car. I barely taste it. Because I catch Claire watching me and Caroline with an expression I can't quite read.

Hurt mixed with resignation mixed with something harder that might be acceptance or might be fury barely leashed. She turns away before I can process it. The celebration lasts thirty minutes of forced small talk and strategic networking. Robert works the room like he owns it-which technically he now partially does. Caroline stays close to her father, playing dutiful daughter while shooting me looks that make my chest tight. Then everyone disperses. Lawyers gathering documents, support staff cleaning glasses, the machinery of corporate partnership humming efficiently.

Caroline corners me by the elevators. "Dinner tonight?" Her voice drops to something intimate, private. "To celebrate properly. Just us." My throat goes dry. "Caroline-" "I know what you're going to say. That we should keep things professional now that we're partners." She steps closer and I can smell that perfume that makes my wolf sit up with interest. "But I don't want to keep things professional. I want to see where this goes." The elevator arrives with a soft chime. She steps inside, holding my gaze with those blue eyes that see too much. "Eight o'clock. My place. I'll cook.

Well, I'll order from somewhere that makes actual food since I burn water." Her smile could power Denver's electrical grid. "Unless you're too scared to find out what we could be." The doors close and I'm left standing there, torn between what I know is smart and what my body demands with increasing volume. Claire appears at my elbow. "She's good." "What?" "Caroline. The way she played that." Claire's voice stays neutral but I hear the edge underneath. "Vulnerable but confident.

Giving you the choice while making it clear there's only one choice if you want her." "Claire-" "Go to dinner, Lysander." She starts walking toward her office. "You were always going to. Might as well stop pretending otherwise." I show up at Caroline's apartment at 8:15-deliberately late to prove I'm not desperate, aware it proves exactly the opposite. Her building is nice. Not obscenely wealthy but comfortable, the kind of place successful lawyers live when they're building careers. Security nods me through without question.

She answers the door in jeans and a cream sweater, hair loose around her shoulders, no makeup beyond maybe some lip gloss. More beautiful than when she's in corporate armor somehow. "You came." She sounds genuinely surprised and pleased, pulling me inside. "I was like sixty percent sure you'd bail." "You ordered Thai." I can smell lemongrass and chili from the hallway. "And Italian. And sushi. And possibly Indian? I wasn't sure what you'd want so I got everything." She's leading me to her living room, gesturing at approximately seventeen takeout containers covering her coffee table.

"I have commitment issues when it comes to takeout. My therapist says it's because I'm afraid of making the wrong choice and being stuck with pad thai when I really wanted tikka masala." We settle on her couch-soft, expensive, clearly chosen for comfort over aesthetic. She hands me a plate and suddenly we're eating pad thai and California rolls while discussing everything except the partnership. "My dad cried when I got into Harvard Law." She's picking at her food more than eating. "Not happy tears. Disappointed tears. Said Harvard was for people who needed name recognition to succeed.

That Montgomery lawyers earn respect through work, not pedigree." "What did you say?" "That I was going anyway. First time I ever defied him directly." Her laugh comes out bitter. "He didn't speak to me for three months. Then I graduated top ten percent and suddenly it was fine. He respects achievement even when it contradicts his philosophy." "My father respects strength." I set down my plate. "Which means Kieran. Always Kieran. I could cure cancer and Dad would ask why I didn't do it faster." "We're both performing." She turns to face me fully, tucking her legs under herself.

"You with your family. Me with mine. Trying to be what they need instead of what we are." "And what are we?" "I don't know yet." She sets down her wine with deliberate care. "But I want to find out." When she kisses me, it's different from the car kiss two weeks ago. Slower, deeper, more intentional. Not testing-claiming. I pull her into my lap and she comes willingly, melting into me with soft curves and warm skin.

Her hands slide into my hair and I'm lost, drowning in the kiss, in her scent, in the impossible pull toward this human woman who shouldn't register as anything special but somehow is everything. "Stay," she whispers against my mouth. I should leave. Should maintain boundaries. Should think about Claire, about pack law, about the partnership we just signed that makes this professionally complicated. But my wolf is practically begging and my body remembers what it's needed for months. "I'll stay." We move to her bedroom and it's deliberate, unhurried, both of us savoring every moment.

She undresses me with hands that shake slightly-nervous energy finally showing through. I take my time with her clothes, mapping skin I've been imagining since that first collision outside the coffee shop. When I enter her, the sensation is electric. Not the mate bond-I know what that feels like from watching Kieran and Thalia-but something close enough to confuse me. She feels right in ways that should be impossible for a human. "God," she gasps, arching into me. "You feel-" "I know." We move together with rhythm that shouldn't work this well this fast.

She meets every thrust, nails digging into my shoulders, making sounds that drive my wolf absolutely insane. Afterward, wrapped around each other with sheets tangled and bodies cooling, she traces patterns on my chest. "I'm falling for you," she admits quietly. "Which terrifies me because you're my business partner and this is the world's worst idea." "Join the club." I kiss her forehead, tasting salt and satisfaction. "I'm falling too." I drive home at 3 AM with her scent on my skin and her taste still on my tongue. My body is sated but my mind screams warnings I'm too tired to process.

Because I'm not just falling for Caroline. I'm still deeply, irrevocably drawn to Claire. To her stability, her understanding, her steady presence that makes everything feel manageable when the world gets too loud. I love them both. Desire them both. Need them both in completely different ways that should be mutually exclusive but somehow aren't. And I have absolutely no idea what to do about it. My phone buzzes. Claire: Hope dinner was good. We need to talk about the Henderson brief tomorrow. 9 AM? Then Caroline: Thank you for staying. For tonight. For everything.

I know it's complicated but I meant what I said. I'm falling and I don't want to stop. Two texts. Two women. Two completely different futures pulling me in opposite directions. I pull into my parking garage and sit there in the dark, trying to figure out how I became this person. The answer crystallizes with brutal clarity: I became this person the second I chose comfort over honesty, safety over risk, trying to have everything instead of choosing anything. And now everyone's going to get hurt. Starting with me. Archer