Claimed by My Bestie's Alpha Daddy novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Amelia

It really is him, Richard.

Beautiful, composed, devastatingly powerful Richard.

His eyes sweep over me, and I feel them catch-taking in every wrinkle in my dress, every frizzed hair, every trace of the mess I’ve barely tried to clean up. Somehow I look even more chaotic now than when I left his room this morning.

“Follow me,

” he says, his voice low and commanding, echoing across the lobby like it was

built just to hold the sound.

Meredith, the receptionist who had been dripping with superiority just minutes ago, now bows her head so fast I almost hear her neck crack. The smugness is gone, replaced with total silence as Richard and I walk past like she’s suddenly remembered how ranks work.

We head toward the elevator. I’ve been to the pack house before, but never this wing.

The doors close behind us and suddenly we’re alone.

Neither of us speaks.

The silence is thick-full of things we’re both pretending not to think about. I try not to look at him, but he’s everywhere: the scent of him, the heat of him, the tension that still lingers in my body just from being in his presence. The elevator hums quietly as it lifts us higher.

When we step out, I have to stop myself from gaping. The top floor is sleek-modern and minimalistic, all clean lines and cool greys and deep navy blues. The huge windows make the space feel like it goes on forever.

I follow him through the open layout, glancing around at what looks like an executive suite crossed with a private museum.

1/3

“Where, uh… where’s your office?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even.

“This is it,” he says simply.

I stop walking. The whole floor? This entire, cathedral-sized floor was his office?

He doesn’t explain. Just leads me to a secluded room tucked off the main hallway. Inside is a lounge-quiet, polished, with plush chairs and soft lighting that feels way too luxurious for someone as ragged as I feel.

“Wait here,” he says. “Someone will come get you.”

And then he’s gone.

I stand there awkwardly, too nervous to sit on any of the sleek furniture. A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. A woman steps in, holding a neatly folded outfit and a small toiletry bag.

“Compliments of the King,” she says, her smile tight and practiced, her eyes scanning me with the kind of judgmental condescension people usually try to hide better. But she keeps smiling, like she’s doing me a favor just by handing me the bag.

“Oh. Wow. Thank you.”

She hands over the items and leaves me alone again.

Inside the bag, I find everything I need-cleanser, deodorant, a toothbrush, even a hairbrush. The dress is deep blue, fitted but professional. It hugs me in all the right places while still saying I belong here. I slip it on and smooth it down over my hips, then catch sight of myself in the mirror.

I look… good. Like someone capable. Like someone who could belong here.

I pick up the brush and run it through my hair one more time, trying to tame it into something halfway professional. “You can do this,” I tell my reflection quietly. My voice doesn’t sound as sure as I want it to-but it’s something. And today, something might be enough.

2/3

་་་་་་་ ་་་

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify