Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 94 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Lysander The conference call with Hartford Financial goes nuclear around 9 AM when their CEO drops the bomb in that corporate-speak way that makes you want to reach through the screen and shake someone. "Given recent security concerns and the, ah, instability surrounding Fenris Legal Group's infrastructure, we've decided to explore other options for our legal representation." Translation: someone convinced them we're compromised, dangerous, not worth the risk.

"We've maintained your account for eight years without incident." My voice stays level despite wanting to throw my laptop through the window. "What specific concerns are we addressing?" "The breaches. The vandalism. The rumors about internal conflicts and-" He stops, clearly reading from notes someone prepared. "We simply can't risk our proprietary information with a firm under this level of attack." Three hours later, Meridian Tech pulls their account. By afternoon, Cascade Industries follows. Three major clients gone in one day.

Millions in annual revenue evaporating because someone's systematically destroying our reputation while burning our buildings. The emergency board meeting happens in the war room that used to be Dad's office, now mine by default since becoming Alpha means inheriting all the shitty responsibilities nobody else wants. Twelve board members crammed around a table designed for eight, all of them radiating varying degrees of fury and panic.

"This is unacceptable." Richard Chen-Beta Marcus's cousin, corporate lawyer, perpetually angry about something-slams his hand on the table hard enough to make coffee cups jump. "Three accounts in one day. How are we supposed to maintain operations if clients keep fleeing?" "We address the security breaches, shore up our infrastructure, and demonstrate we're handling the crisis." I keep my voice Alpha-calm even though my wolf wants to remind Richard exactly who's in charge here.

"Panic serves no one." "Panic?" Catherine-pack elder, board member, professional pain in my ass-leans forward with that condescending expression I'm learning to hate. "We're bleeding money and reputation. That's not panic, that's reality." My phone buzzes with an incoming text. Security lead Marcus: Another hit. Check the news. I pull up the local news feed and my stomach drops through the floor. Aerial footage shows five houses-all belonging to senior partners-spray-painted with the same message in twenty-foot red letters. GET OFF OUR TERRITORY.

The homes are spread across the city, hit simultaneously around 3 AM while everyone slept. Coordinated psychological warfare designed to make our own people turn on us. "This meeting's adjourned." I stand before anyone can argue. "Security protocol Delta is now active. Everyone goes home with escorts, check your houses, report anything suspicious immediately." They file out muttering about leadership and crisis management and whether I'm equipped to handle this. I'm not, but admitting that helps exactly no one.

Caroline appears in the doorway as the last board member leaves, carrying her laptop and looking like she hasn't slept since the attacks started. "I have the security footage analysis you requested. And the financial audit tracking the stock manipulation." "How long have you been here?" "Since six." She sets the laptop on my desk, pulls up spreadsheets that make my head hurt. "The short-selling pattern is sophisticated. Multiple shell companies, offshore accounts, coordinated timing. This isn't amateur hour." I'm studying the data when my phone erupts with more alerts.

Pack security, corporate security, three different crisis managers all demanding attention simultaneously. "Go home." The words come out harsher than intended. "You're not getting paid enough to drown with this sinking ship." "I'm not leaving." Her chin lifts in that stubborn way that makes my chest do complicated things. "We're fixing this together or not at all." The hours blur into crisis management that would be impressive if it wasn't my life actively imploding.

Caroline coordinates with security teams, tracks financial patterns, cross-references attack timings with hunter intelligence Thalia gathered. She moves through chaos with the kind of focused competence that reminds me why I fell for her in the first place. Around midnight I find her asleep at her desk, security footage still running on her computer screen, head pillowed on her arms. The laptop glows blue across her face, highlighting exhaustion that makes something protective and possessive rise in my chest.

I should wake her, send her home, maintain professional boundaries that disappeared somewhere around the third time she made me laugh during a board meeting from hell. Instead I carry her to the office couch, her body warm and soft against mine, fitting in my arms with the kind of rightness that terrifies me. She murmurs something incoherent, curling into my chest as I settle her on the cushions and tuck a blanket around her. Her eyes flutter open, half-awake and unfocused. "Stay?" The word is barely a whisper but it hits like a command my wolf can't refuse.

"Yeah." I pull her against my chest, arm wrapping around her waist. "I'll stay." She sighs, relaxing completely, trusting me with the weight of her exhaustion and fear and everything we haven't said yet. Her breathing evens out quickly, body going slack against mine. The bond hums satisfied-quieter than what Kieran and Thalia had, less consuming, but present. Real. Undeniable. I'm not going to be able to ignore it much longer. Her heartbeat synchronizes with mine, steady and sure, and I let myself have this.

Just holding someone I care about while the world burns outside, pretending for a few hours that we're not standing on opposite sides of a blood feud that's killed people for centuries. The reasonable thing would be to push her away. Protect her from the hunters targeting my pack, from the corporate warfare destroying my business, from me and everything I represent to her family. I've never been good at reasonable. Morning light filters through the blinds and I wake to find the couch empty. Caroline's gone, blanket neatly folded, no trace of her except warmth still lingering on the cushions.

Her laptop sits on my desk, screen dark. Her security clearance badge rests beside it-the badge that gave her access to corporate files, pack security protocols, everything we've been coordinating against the hunters. No note. No explanation. I grab my phone, dial her number. Straight to voicemail. Text her: Where are you? Nothing. Call again. Voicemail. The morning progresses through increasingly frantic attempts to reach her. Texts, calls, emails, even trying her work extension that rings endlessly.

By afternoon I'm threatening her roommate-also voicemail-and considering filing a missing person report. Twenty-four hours later, still nothing. My gut screams something's wrong with the kind of certainty that comes from Alpha instincts designed to protect pack. Except Caroline's not pack, she's human, and the bond pulling at me says she's mine anyway. Thalia finds me in my office at 2 AM, staring at Caroline's abandoned laptop and security badge. "She's gone." My voice sounds detached, clinical, completely divorced from the panic clawing up my throat.

"No contact, phone's dead, nobody's seen her." "Lysander-" "The hunters didn't just coordinate these attacks from the outside." The pieces click together with devastating clarity. "They have inside help. Someone with access to corporate files, pack security, both families' operations." Thalia's face goes pale. "Caroline's the only human with that level of access." The words hang between us, accusation and reality and the possibility I've been played from the beginning by a woman who fits perfectly in my arms and makes me want things I can't have.

Either something terrible happened to her, or she's been the inside help all along. And I have absolutely no fucking idea which option terrifies me more. Archer