Claimed by My Bestie's Alpha Daddy novel Chapter 45

Chapter 45

The day of the final debate arrived far too early.

I got in before anyone else, the main chamber still dim and quiet, chairs not yet filled with the sharp angles of power. I set up at the central table with Richard’s talking points in hand-a clean folder of annotated printouts, highlighters tucked into the pocket like they’d do something to settle my nerves.

I was seated at the table beside key pack representatives, right in the line of fire. Directly across from David’s

lead advisor. The seat hadn’t been random.

The first half of the debate was an exercise in restraint. Every question from David’s camp had teeth, thinly veiled behind policy jargon and polite smiles. They prodded at Richard’s leadership-“emotional instability”

this, “internal favoritism” that. The word “transparency” was wielded like a knife, thrown again and again

with just enough plausible deniability to avoid outright accusation.

A representative from the Western Border Pack leaned forward, fingers steepled. “There’s been talk of

accelerated promotions,” he said. “Unusual access. Assignments that don’t reflect traditional protocol. Can the

King explain how those decisions were made?”

Richard kept his voice measured. “During a staffing shortage, we relied on individuals willing to go above and

beyond. Any appointments made reflected urgency and capability.”

The representative turned to me next, clearly not finished. “And do you feel your current position was earned

by merit alone, Miss-”

“Yes,” I said before he could finish. I straightened. “We were short-staffed. I volunteered. I’ve worked double

shifts, handled high-clearance logistics, and coordinated emergency response while others backed away.

That’s leadership, not favoritism.”

He blinked, taken aback by the clarity. “And your proximity to the Alpha King? You believe that had no impact?”

I could smell the sexism.

“I don’t have any access that a man in my position would not also be granted,” I replied flatly. “Ask the people I

work beside. Every step I’ve taken, I’ve earned.”

There was a pause. Murmurs. Then one councilwoman nodded. “That aligns with what we’ve observed.”

Richard didn’t turn, but I saw the side of his mouth twitch, the tension in his shoulders ease.

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David sat still across the table, smiling with too many teeth, like he was already planning his next move.

A representative from one of the border packs raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “We’ve heard reports of certain… irregularities in the selection process for key summit roles,” he said. “Some have suggested personal relationships are factoring into assignments. Care to respond?”

I saw Richard’s jaw tighten, but before he could speak, I leaned toward the mic.

“We were short-staffed,” I said calmly. “I volunteered. That’s leadership, not favoritism.”

“I believe I earned my place by stepping up when others didn’t,” I replied. “Ask anyone who’s worked beside

me.”

The room stilled. A few council members exchanged looks. One even nodded faintly. But the questions kept

coming, their wording different but their aim the same.

It was like these people couldn’t comprehend a pretty young woman in a position of power without assuming

she was sleeping with her boss. And, okay-technically, I was sleeping near him. But that wasn’t the same

thing, and either way, it was none of their damn business.

Again and again, they returned to the idea of favoritism, of personal bias, of Richard’s so-called instability. It felt endless-each inquiry bleeding into the next like a deliberate attempt to wear us down. What had started as a debate turned into an interrogation, the same handful of accusations dressed up in different vocabulary.

It went on for what felt like hours.

By the time the moderator finally called for a recess, my neck ached from holding myself so straight, and my fingers had cramped from gripping my notes. But I didn’t let any of that show. I didn’t give them the

satisfaction.

At the break, I slipped out the side doors, needing air. The garden walk was quiet, filtered sunlight flickering

through the iron trellis and summit moss. I found Richard there, standing with his hands braced on the stone

railing.

“You didn’t need to defend me,” he said without turning.

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