Claimed by My Bestie's Alpha Daddy novel Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Reporters were still shouting when Richard’s voice cut clean through the chaos.

“Delete the photos. All of them,” Richard snapped, voice cutting sharper than any blade. “If I see one image surface from this, your press passes are gone. Permanently. Don’t test me.”

There was no room for argument. Just that quiet, dangerous authority that made people freeze mid-breath. Within seconds, phones were being yanked down, lenses lowered. Nathan barked orders to follow up, confirm compliance, and make sure no one slipped out with a shot of me half-frozen in fear beside a collapsed Elder.

Then Richard turned to Beta again. “Get the healer here. Now.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just looked once in my direction and moved off with the same sharp grace he always carried.

I stayed by Elder Thorne’s side, too numb to move. Someone draped a jacket over my shoulders-I didn’t catch

who. Emma crouched next to me, voice low.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not,” I said. I was still holding the sealed bottle I’d handed out earlier. Like evidence. Like guilt. “It’s not

okay.”

Emma glanced around, then leaned in with a low whistle. “You’re lucky. He stepped in personally. Normally

something like this would get handed off to Beta or one of the aides.”

“Don’t,” I whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t say I’m lucky.”

She paused. “Right. Sorry. It’s just… I’ve never seen him protect anyone like that.”

I didn’t answer. Didn’t trust my voice. The noise in the room was like static-murmurs, flashes, hurried

footsteps-but none of it reached me. Elder Thorne was still unconscious. My hand was trembling.

“Probably because of Thorne’s status,” I added quickly. “Big deal if something happens to him.”

Still wrong. It hadn’t felt like protocol. It felt like instinct. Like protection. But that couldn’t be right-he barely

1/3

knew me. I wasn’t anyone to him. Just another subordinate.

I tried to shake it off. Tried to tell myself he would’ve done the same for anyone else. That if it had been Emma, or Nathan, or even someone new, he’d have reacted the same way. That he wasn’t angry because he cared-he was angry because it looked bad.

But I didn’t fully believe it.

Not when I could still feel the way his eyes had found mine like a command. Not when he’d said now with a sharpness I’d never heard before.

It hadn’t felt like politics, it had felt like something else.

The crowd hadn’t dispersed-just rearranged itself, like everyone was pretending not to stare while still absolutely staring. Eyes kept landing on me, flicking away when I looked up, like I was something fragile or dangerous or both. I lowered my gaze and focused on breathing evenly, on keeping my hands from shaking, on convincing myself not to run even though every nerve in my body was lit up like I should.

“Turn around,” she whispered.

I did.

He was tall-lean, but sharp around the edges, with shoulders that carried more tension than he let on and a face like he’d forgotten how to smile. Sharp eyes and quiet authority as he cut across the crowd like he belonged

at the center of it. There was a pause in my brain, like I recognized him but couldn’t quite place it.

And then it clicked.

Simon. My neighbor. The quiet one with the hood and the dog and the complete lack of small talk.

The one I’d brought muffins to. The one whose lost mutt I’d helped find. The one who barely spoke when we

passed in the hallway. I turned to Emma, still trying to process the shift in context.

“That’s my neighbor,” I whispered.

She blinked at me. “What?”

“Simon,” I added. “The guy I told you about. With the dog. I didn’t even know he was a healer. Let alone this

kind of healer.”

Emma’s mouth fell open just a little. “You seriously need to start reading your neighbor’s resumes.”

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify