Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 67 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Lysander The next morning I'm walking to my car when my phone rings. Caroline, because apparently the universe has decided I don't get coffee before disaster strikes. "Hey, can you come by my place? We need to talk." Four words that have never preceded anything good in the history of human communication. I arrive to find her pacing her living room in yoga pants and what I'm pretty sure is my old Columbia Law shirt. She's got that manic energy that means her brain is moving faster than her mouth can keep up.

"My father wants to accelerate the merger timeline." No hello, no preamble, just corporate disaster served straight up. "Says the partnership structure isn't working. He wants full acquisition-Fenris Colorado becomes Montgomery West-within sixty days." My stomach drops into my shoes. "Absolutely not. That wasn't the agreement." "I know. I told him that. Multiple times. With charts." She's wearing a path in her expensive rug. "But he's threatening to invoke the performance clause. Claims you're not meeting integration benchmarks and that gives him grounds to restructure." "On what grounds?

We've hit every major milestone-" "He's got lawyers looking for any excuse to force this through." She finally stops pacing, faces me with exhaustion written across her features. "Breach of good faith partnership. He's been documenting everything-every meeting you miss, every deadline that slips even slightly, every client handoff that takes longer than optimal." My jaw clenches. "He's building a case." "A really good one, apparently. His attorneys spent all weekend compiling evidence." She sits down hard on her couch. "Lysander, he's serious about this.

And if we fight him, it's going to get ugly." "And you're just telling me this now?" The accusation comes out harsher than intended. "I didn't know until this morning!" Her voice climbs, defensive. "He called me into his office at seven AM and laid out everything. The documentation, the legal strategy, the timeline. I came straight here." She's wringing her hands-that nervous energy manifesting physically in ways I've never seen from confident, put-together Caroline. "There's more. He knows about us. About the relationship." She won't meet my eyes. "He's planning to use it.

Claim you're compromised, that personal feelings are interfering with business judgment, that I'm too emotionally involved to protect Montgomery's interests." "How did he find out?" "The Instagram post from that restaurant. One of his investors saw it and sent it to him with concerns about 'personal entanglements affecting fiduciary responsibility.'" She makes air quotes with bitter precision. "Corporate speak for 'your daughter's fucking the competition.'" I sit next to her, trying to process.

Every move I've made for the past three months has apparently been documented, catalogued, weaponized. "What did he say to you?" I ask carefully. "That I'm naive. That you're manipulating me to maintain control while Montgomery does the real work." Her voice breaks slightly. "That I need to choose between him and you. Family loyalty versus whatever this is." The way she says "whatever this is" lands like a punch. "What did you say?" "I said I'd handle it." She takes my hand, fingers cold despite the warm room. "But Lysander, he's serious.

He's going to force this merger with or without our cooperation. And if I fight him, he'll cut me out entirely. Remove me from partnership consideration, revoke my equity stake, basically destroy everything I've built." We sit in heavy silence, the partnership we built crumbling in real-time around us. "There's something else." Her voice drops to something barely above whisper. "My father's investors. The ones pushing for rapid acquisition. They're not just business contacts. They're his hunting partners." My blood goes cold. "His hunting partners." "Yeah. They've been friends for decades.

Go on these trips together-Montana, Idaho, backcountry wilderness stuff." She still won't meet my eyes. "He won't talk about what they hunt. Says it's tradition, old family business. But they're intense about it. Like cult-level intense." Every instinct I have screams danger. My wolf is suddenly very interested in this conversation. "Caroline-" "I know it's weird. Trust me, I know. I've asked him about it for years and he just shuts down completely." She finally looks at me, blue eyes searching. "Says it's not something he discusses with outsiders.

That some traditions are meant to stay in the family." "What do they hunt?" I keep my voice carefully neutral. "I don't know. He's always vague. Says they track dangerous game, that it requires specific skills passed down through generations." She's fidgeting with her ring now. "His father was part of the same group. And his grandfather. It's this whole legacy thing that predates Montgomery Legal by like a century." My chest tightens. Legacy hunting groups that don't discuss their prey with daughters who know about werewolves but conveniently don't ask questions.

"Am I losing you over this?" She turns to face me fully. "The merger pressure, the secrecy, my father being essentially insane. Is this too much?" I want to say no. Want to reassure her. But I'm thinking about Claire's warnings, Kieran's concerns, Magnus demanding I come to Seattle for damage control. "I need time to process." "We don't have time." She stands, that manic energy returning. "My father wants an answer by Friday. Either we agree to full acquisition or he's pulling out of the partnership entirely.

Which means we'd have to buy out Montgomery's share at the premium specified in the exit clause. Which we absolutely cannot afford without taking on debt that would cripple operations." "That's hostile." "That's my father." She moves to the window, arms wrapped around herself. "He's been preparing this move since the beginning. The partnership was always a stepping stone to full control. I just didn't want to see it." The admission hangs between us. "And you knew?" My voice comes out harder than intended. "I suspected.

But I thought-I hoped-that if we made it work, if the integration went smoothly, he'd see that partnership was better than takeover." She turns back, and there are tears in her eyes now. "I was wrong. He never wanted partnership. He wanted acquisition with your willing participation." I stand, needing movement, needing space to think without her scent and her tears and her vulnerability clouding my judgment. "I need to talk to my family. To my lawyers. Can't make this decision alone." "I understand." Her voice is small, stripped of the usual brightness. "But Lysander?

Whatever happens with the business-I need to know where we stand. Are we real? Or was I just a way to make the partnership more appealing?" The question deserves honesty I'm not sure I can give. Because the truth is complicated. I fell for her-genuinely fell for her bright energy and sharp mind and the way she makes me feel alive. But I also fell for Claire's stability and understanding and the way she makes me feel safe. And somewhere in trying to have both, I might have lost everything. "You weren't just business strategy." The words come out rough.

"You were never just business." "But?" She hears it in my tone. "But I've been lying to myself about a lot of things." I move toward the door because staying means getting pulled into comfort I don't deserve. "And I need to figure out what's real before I can answer that question honestly." "So I'm still competing with Claire." Not a question. "You were never competing. You're both-" I stop because anything I say sounds like excuse-making. "I'm sorry. For all of it." "Yeah." She wipes her eyes.

"Me too." I leave her standing in her living room wearing my shirt, and drive straight to the airport because Magnus doesn't make emergency summons lightly. My phone buzzes with texts as I'm boarding. Caroline: I love you. Even if you can't say it back. Even if this all falls apart. Just wanted you to know. Then Claire: Quarterly projections are done. Henderson team apologized for the errors. Everything's handled. Two women. Two completely different forms of love. One father-in-law who's apparently part of a legacy werewolf hunting organization.

And seventy-two hours to decide if I'm signing away my firm or blowing up my life. No pressure. Archer