Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 69 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Lysander The buyout process is three weeks of corporate waterboarding disguised as negotiation. Montgomery's legal team finds every possible loophole, every performance metric I missed by half a percentage point, every integration deadline that slipped by forty-eight hours. They're not just extracting money. They're extracting blood. Robert Montgomery attends exactly one meeting.

Walks in wearing a suit that probably costs more than my first car, sits at the head of the table with the energy of someone who's already won, and stares at me with contempt so cold I can feel my wolf trying to submit. "You hurt my daughter." His voice is conversational, almost friendly. "This could have been amicable. Could have been a clean separation, minimal penalties, everyone walks away with dignity intact." He leans forward. "Now it's going to cost you everything I can legally extract.

Every dollar, every client relationship, every piece of leverage Montgomery Legal possesses." He stands. "Welcome to consequence, Mr. Fenris." He leaves. His lawyers stay and proceed to execute his promise with surgical efficiency. The final number is 3.7 million dollars. I have to take loans against my personal assets-the penthouse, my car, investments I'd planned to retire on someday. Convince Magnus to provide bridge financing that comes with lecture about judgment and consequences. Restructure Colorado operations so aggressively that three associates quit and two support staff follow.

Sandra-Claire's replacement-is competent in the way that robots are competent. She organizes my calendar with mechanical precision, manages my calls without ever asking if I actually want to take them, stays exactly until 5 PM and not one minute longer. No warmth. No intuition about what I need before I ask. No staying late to help me think through problems while eating takeout and arguing about strategy. I miss Claire with an ache that doesn't fade. Every morning I turn to ask her opinion on something before remembering she's gone.

Every night I almost text her before stopping myself because she needs time and space and probably a restraining order. Caroline blocks my number. Removes me from social media with the efficiency of someone excising a tumor. When I see her at a required legal meeting-final signature on dissolution documents-she looks through me with the same expression you'd give a smudge on a window. Her hair is different. Shorter, sharper, more severe. She's wearing all black instead of her signature pink that used to make partners wince and opposing counsel underestimate her.

Everything soft about her has been filed away, replaced by edges that could draw blood. "Ms. Montgomery," I say when our lawyers take a break. "Mr. Fenris." Her voice could freeze nitrogen. "I'm sorry. For how everything ended-" "You're sorry." She laughs without humor, still not looking directly at me. "You're sorry you got caught choosing your family over me. You're sorry the breakup was messy and now business is uncomfortable. You're not sorry for the actual choice. Because it was the right one for you." She gathers her files with controlled violence that makes the papers sound angry.

"My father was right about you. You're exactly like every other Fenris-power matters more than people, legacy matters more than love, control matters more than connection." She pauses at the door, finally meets my eyes. "I was stupid enough to think you were different. That maybe underneath all that Alpha heir bullshit was someone who could actually choose a person over a quarterly projection." Her hand tightens on the doorframe. "I hope Colorado was worth it.

I hope every dollar you paid, every client you kept, every bit of control you maintained feels worth what you gave up." Her smile is all teeth, zero warmth. "Spoiler alert: it won't. But you'll pretend it does because that's what Fenris men do. Pretend their choices were right even when they're drowning in regret." She leaves. Robert Montgomery appears from wherever he'd been lurking. Probably watching through the conference room glass, enjoying the show. "She'll get over you eventually." He straightens his cuffs with casual precision. "Montgomery women are resilient.

We've had to be, dealing with men who value power over partnership for generations." He moves toward the exit, pauses. "But I won't get over what you did to her. And I have a very long memory, Mr. Fenris. A very long reach. And friends who share my interests in hunting things that think they're untouchable." The threat isn't even subtle. He wants me to know he knows and that he's willing to wait for the perfect moment to destroy me. They leave.

I sit in the empty conference room understanding that I've made an enemy who has resources, patience, and apparently a legacy werewolf hunting organization backing him up. Fantastic. Just what my life needed-mortal peril on top of romantic devastation. The kids notice during their next video call. Luna especially, because empaths don't let you hide shit even through screens. "You're different sad now," she observes with that unnerving directness nine-year-olds shouldn't possess. "Not the missing-someone sad from before.

The destroyed-something-you-can't-fix sad." "I'm fine, sweetheart." "Okay. You know that Dad wants more children?" She's trying to make me laugh, bless her. "But I don't want more siblings. I have enough. Phoenix is already like having three people." "HEY!" Phoenix shoves her way into frame. "Uncle Lysander, are you coming for Christmas? Because Mom's making her thing and you have to be here for the thing. It's tradition." "What thing?" "The THING. With the-" She gestures wildly.

"You know, the food situation that happens every December." Orion appears, adjusting his glasses with that Kieran-level intensity. "She means the holiday dinner. Which I wanted to discuss actually-the legal structure of your buyout is interesting. You essentially paid a premium to exit a partnership that was designed to fail. Classic lose-lose negotiation. Did you consider-" "Orion." Thalia's voice from off-screen. "Maybe not right now." But Luna watches me with those empathic eyes throughout the call, seeing straight through every deflection.

After they hang up, Kieran texts separately: Thalia says you look like death. Dad says you made the right business choice. I say you're an idiot who threw away someone real because you were too scared to risk it. We're all probably right. I sit in my empty penthouse-the one where Claire used to stay over after late work nights, where Caroline briefly existed in my bed and my life, where I built this pristine independent existence that feels hollow now-and wonder if this is what success is supposed to feel like. Because I have Colorado. Have control.

Have autonomy and independence and everything I supposedly wanted. But my apartment echoes. My office feels sterile. Sandra doesn't laugh at my jokes because she's too professional for jokes. I made the right choice. The strategic choice. The choice that protects my family and my business and my future. I just didn't realize the right choice would feel this much like losing. My phone sits silent on the coffee table. No texts from Caroline because she blocked me. No texts from Claire because she's too smart to get dragged back into my disaster.

Just me, my expensive furniture, and the crushing realization that I've become exactly what both of them accused me of being. A Fenris man who chose power over people. And maybe they were right all along. Archer