Sleeping with My Best Friend's Alpha Father

I didn't belong at that party.

I knew it the moment I stepped through the gate.

My shoes were too cheap.

My dress was borrowed.

My smile felt fake.

Everything about me screamed mistakes.

Music drifted from inside. Laughter. Glasses clinking. Expensive perfume. Voices smooth and confident.

People like them never stuttered. Never count coins before buying food. Never worry about tomorrow.

People like me did.

I tightened my grip on the tray in my hand.

"Don't shake," I whispered to myself. "It's just one night. Work. Smile. Leave."

That was the plan.

Simple.

Safe.

But my chest still felt tight.

Like I had walked into the wrong life.

"Why do you look like you're going to a funeral?"

I turned.

Sienna stood behind me, bright and glowing like she always did. Gold dress. Perfect hair. Perfect smile. She looked like she belonged on a magazine cover.

She always did.

She grabbed my arm and laughed softly. "Relax. It's just a party."

I forced a smile. "For you."

She frowned. "For you too. You're my guest."

"No," I said quietly. "I'm your help."

Her smile faltered for a second.

I hated myself for saying it out loud.

But it was the truth.

Guests wore diamonds.

I wore a uniform.

Guests drank wine.

I carried it.

Guests danced.

I cleaned after them.

She squeezed my hand. "Don't say that. You know you're more than that to me."

Do I?

The question burned in my throat, but I swallowed it.

Sienna had helped me before. Lent me money. Covered my school fees once. Introduced me to people who spoke English like silk.

She called me her best friend.

But sometimes kindness feels like charity.

And charity always comes with a price.

"I'm fine," I said. "Just tell me where to serve."

She studied me like she wanted to argue. Then she sighed. "Okay. But if anyone bothers you, you come straight to me. This is my house. No one messes with what's mine."

What's mine?

The words sounded warm.

But they also sounded like ownership.

Before I could think too much, she kissed my cheek and left.

And just like that, I was alone.

I started walking through the crowd.

Smile. Nod. Pour drinks.

"Champagne?"

"Red or white?"

"Thank you, sir."

My voice sounded small even to me.

People barely looked at my face. Their eyes went past me. Through me.

Like I wasn't a person.

Like I was furniture.

A moving table.

A pair of hands.

Nothing else.

I'd felt this before.

At restaurants.

At hotels.

At every job I ever had.

But tonight it felt worse.

Heavier.

Like the air itself was watching me.

Two women brushed past me.

"She's human, right?" one whispered.

"I think so. Why would they hire humans tonight?"

"Cheap labor, probably."

They laughed.

Soft. Mean. Casual.

Like I wasn't standing right there.

My fingers tightened around the tray.

Don't cry.

Not here.

Not again.

I lowered my head and kept walking.

Because that's what I always did.

Keep walking.

Keep quiet.

Survive.

Near the bar, two men were talking in low voices.

I wasn't trying to listen.

But their words slipped through anyway.

"...tonight might get ugly."

"...rival packs are already in the city."

"...security doubled. The King doesn't trust anyone."

King?

I blinked.

They weren't joking.

No one laughed.

They sounded serious.

One of them noticed me listening and stopped talking.

His eyes changed.

Sharp.

Cold.

Not human.

A chill slid down my spine.

"Drink," he said shortly.

I poured with shaking hands.

Why did that feel like an order?

Something wasn't right.

The guards weren't relaxed like normal parties.

They were stiff. Watching exits. Whispering into earpieces.

People laughed too loud.

Smiled too wide.

Like everyone was pretending.

Like this wasn't a party.

Like this was war dressed in silk.

My heart started beating faster.

What kind of place is this?

What kind of world did Sienna really belong to?

And what was I doing here?

I moved toward another group.

A man suddenly grabbed my wrist.

Hard.

Too hard.

"Hey," he said. "Refill."

His grip hurt.

I tried to pull away. "Please let go, sir."

He didn't.

He stared at me like I was meat.

"You're new," he said. "Pretty too."

My stomach twisted.

"I'm working," I said.

He leaned closer. I smelled alcohol. Something sour.

"Work later. Sit with me first."

"No."

The word came out small.

But it was still not.

His smile disappeared.

Before things could get worse, another voice cut in.

"Let her go."

Calm.

Deep.

Dangerous.

The man's hand dropped instantly.

He stepped back like he'd been burned.

I turned

But the person had already walked away.

I only saw a tall back.

Broad shoulders.

Black suit.

Commanding.

Everyone around him moved aside without being told.

Like he didn't need permission to exist.

Like the air belonged to him.

"Who was that?" I whispered.

The man who grabbed me looked pale.

"That's none of your business," he muttered.

But there was fear in his eyes.

Real fear.

My skin prickled.

Who is he?

For the next hour, I couldn't focus.

I kept feeling it.

That strange sensation.

Like eyes on me.

Not the hungry stares.

Not the rude ones.

Something else.

Something heavier.

Something intense.

Like a predator choosing prey.

Stop being dramatic, Elena.

It's just nerves.

But my body didn't listen.

My heart wouldn't slow down.

My hands kept trembling.

And every time I turned

I felt like someone had just looked away.

I went to the service hallway to breathe.

Just one minute.

Just quiet.

My chest rose and fell fast.

"This is stupid," I muttered. "You're imagining things."

But deep down...

I knew I wasn't.

Something was wrong tonight.

Something big.

And somehow

I felt connected to it.

Like a thread tying me to something dangerous.

Something I couldn't see yet.

Something that hadn't noticed me before...

But had noticed me now.

Back in the main hall, I lifted my tray again.

Smile. Walk. Serve.

Smile. Walk. Serve.

Then

It hit me.

Hard.

Like electricity.

My body froze mid-step.

My skin burned.

My heart slammed.

I didn't know why.

I didn't understand how.

But suddenly

I felt watched.

Not casually.

Not accidentally.

Watched like a target.

Slowly, I looked up.

Across the room.

Past the crowd.

Past the lights.

And then I saw him.

The same man from before.

Tall.

Still.

Silent.

Everyone else moved.

He didn't.

His eyes were on me.

Only me.

Not my tray.

Not my uniform.

Me.

And the way he looked at me

It wasn't interesting.

It wasn't a curiosity.

It wasn't a desire.

It was recognition.

Like he knew me.

Like he'd been looking for me.

My throat went dry.

Why is he staring like that?

We've never met.

Have we?

My chest tightened.

My legs felt weak.

For one strange second

I wanted to walk to him.

Like something inside me was pulling.

Calling.

Don't be stupid.

I forced my gaze away.

But even after I looked down

I could still feel him.

Like heat against my skin.

Like his eyes were touching me.

Across the hall, the man didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Didn't breathe.

His jaw tightened.

His fingers curled slowly at his side.

Something inside him stirred.

Something violent.

Something ancient.

And without breaking his gaze, he spoke quietly to the man beside him.

"Find out who that girl is," he said.

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

The kind of calm that came before a storm.

"Now."

I opened the wrong door.

I knew it the second the handle turned.

This wasn't the storage room.

This wasn't the dressing room Sienna mentioned.

This wasn't safe.

Warm air brushed my face.

Not perfume.

Not food.

Something clean. Sharp. Masculine.

Steam drifted past me.

My fingers tightened around the fabric bag Sienna had given me.

"Change upstairs," she had said. "First door on the left."

I must have miscounted.

Stupid.

I stepped inside anyway.

Just one step.

Then I froze.

Someone was there.

He stood a few feet away.

Bare chest.

Water sliding down his skin.

Dark hair is still wet.

A towel low on his hips.

My breath stopped.

My mind went blank.

It was him.

The man from the hall.

The one who made people move without speaking.

The one who scared that drunk man with just a look.

The one who had been staring at me.

The one I couldn't stop thinking about.

Up close, he looked even bigger.

Stronger.

Scar across his shoulder.

Another near his ribs.

Old marks. Deep ones.

Not accidents.

Fights.

Real fights.

My throat went dry.

"I'm sorry," I blurted. "Wrong room."

My hand flew to the handle.

But his voice stopped me.

"Wait."

One word.

Low.

Steady.

Commanding.

My body obeyed before my brain did.

I hated that.

Silence stretched.

Too long.

Too heavy.

He didn't cover himself.

Didn't move.

Just watched me.

Like he was studying me.

Like I was a problem he couldn't solve.

I swallowed.

"You're staring," I said.

My voice sounded smaller than I wanted.

"You're shaking," he replied.

I looked down.

My hands really were trembling.

"Because you're staring."

His eyes didn't leave my face.

"I'm trying to remember you."

The words hit me strangely.

"Remember me?" I laughed nervously. "We've never met."

He didn't smile.

"That's what's bothering me."

My heart beat faster.

Why does he sound so sure?

I forced myself to breathe.

"Look, sir, I just need to change. My friend told me to use the room"

"This isn't the guest room."

"I figured."

"It's mine."

Oh.

Oh God.

This was his bedroom.

Heat rushed to my face.

"I'm so sorry. I'll leave"

"Stop apologizing."

His tone wasn't angry.

Just firm.

Like he didn't like the word sorry coming from me.

That confused me even more.

Who was this man?

And why did he talk to me like I mattered?

He stepped closer.

One step.

That was all.

But it felt like the air shrank.

Like the room wasn't big enough for both of us.

I caught his scent then.

Clean soap.

Metal.

Rain.

Something wild underneath.

My chest tightened.

My stomach flipped.

My knees felt weak.

What is wrong with me?

I barely know him.

So why does my body feel like this?

Like it recognizes him?

Like it's... safe?

No.

Not safe.

Drawn.

Pulled.

Like gravity.

"You work here?" he asked.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Tonight only."

"Who hired you?"

"My friend."

"Name."

"Sienna Blackwood."

Something flickered in his eyes.

Shock?

No.

Something deeper.

Something like calculation.

"You're her friend?" he asked slowly.

"Yes."

He studied me again.

Longer this time.

His gaze traced my face like he was memorizing every detail.

It made my skin warm.

I hated that it didn't feel uncomfortable.

It should.

But it didn't.

It felt...

intimate.

Too intimate.

"You don't look like you belong here," he said quietly.

The words stung.

"I know."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"It's fine. I'm used to it."

His jaw tightened.

"Used to what?"

"Being the help."

He didn't answer.

But something in his eyes darkened.

Like anger.

Not at me.

At something else.

Silence again.

Then he sniffed.

Softly.

Like he was testing the air.

I almost laughed.

But his expression changed.

Completely.

His shoulders stiffened.

His eyes sharpened.

His pupils widened.

Like a predator locking onto prey.

Or

No.

Not prey.

Something precious.

Something rare.

"What shampoo do you use?" he suddenly asked.

"What?"

"Your scent."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You smell..."

He stopped.

Like he didn't want to finish the sentence.

"That's weird," I said quickly. "Please don't smell me."

For the first time, his lips twitched.

Almost a smile.

"Sorry."

But he didn't look sorry.

He looked confused.

Shaken.

Like something impossible just happened.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Sienna.

Change upstairs. I left you a blue dress. Hurry.

Right.

Focus.

Work.

Leave.

"That's why I came," I said, lifting the bag. "She told me to change. The zipper on my old dress broke."

He looked at the bag.

Then at me.

Then in the bathroom.

"You can change here," he said.

I choked. "Here?"

"I'll step out."

"You don't have to"

"It's fine."

His voice softened slightly.

And somehow that was more dangerous than when he sounded cold.

He turned his back.

I quickly slipped behind the divider and changed.

The blue dress hugged my body tighter than I expected.

Too tight.

Definitely not my style.

I struggled with the zipper.

It wouldn't move.

I twisted. Pulled. I tried again.

Nothing.

"Of course," I muttered. "Of course today hates me."

"Problem?" his voice came.

"It's stuck."

Silence.

Then

"Turn around."

My heart skipped.

"Wh-what?"

"I'll fix it."

"That's okay, I'll manage"

"You can't reach."

He was right.

I hated that he was right.

Slowly, I stepped out.

My back to him.

My hands clenched.

"Don't laugh," I said.

"I won't."

His voice was closer now.

Too close.

I felt his fingers brush the fabric near my spine.

Warm.

Careful.

My breath caught.

Electricity shot through me.

My skin tingled where he touched.

Why?

Why does it feel like this?

It's just a zipper.

Just a stranger.

Just

His fingers accidentally brushed my skin.

And everything stopped.

My heart slammed so hard it hurt.

The air felt thick.

My thoughts scattered.

For one second

I wanted him to touch me again.

I hated myself for that.

"You're cold," he murmured.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

"Why do you care?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

He paused.

Then said quietly,

"I don't know."

The zipper slid up.

Smooth.

Done.

But neither of us moved.

Not yet.

We were too close.

His breath was warm near my neck.

My pulse is loud in my ears.

If I turn around, I'll bump into him.

If I stay still, I'll lose my mind.

Finally, I stepped forward.

Distance.

Air.

Sanity.

"Thank you," I said.

He nodded.

But his eyes were still locked on me.

Like I might disappear.

Like he was afraid to blink.

"Have we met before?" he asked.

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

He frowned.

"Then why does my wolf recognize you?"

I stared at him.

"Your... what?"

He went quiet.

Too quiet.

Like he had said too much.

"Forget it," he said quickly.

But I didn't forget.

Wolf?

What kind of joke is that?

Or was it a metaphor?

Was he drunk?

Crazy?

Or

Something else?

Something I didn't understand yet?

My phone buzzed again.

Sienna.

Where are you? Guests asking for drinks.

"I have to go," I said.

He didn't stop me.

But his eyes followed every step.

Like he was memorizing how I walked.

Like he was afraid this would be the last time he saw me.

That thought scared me.

Why would it be the last time?

Why does it feel like something big is about to happen?

My hand touched the door.

Then

behind me

so soft I almost didn't hear it

he whispered,

"Second chance...?"

I froze.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

But his voice wasn't steady.

It sounded shaken.

Like hope.

Like fear.

Like he had just found something he lost a long time ago.

I stepped into the hallway.

My heart is still racing.

My skin is still burning.

My mind still stuck on him.

Who are you?

Why do you look at me like that?

And why does it feel like meeting you just changed my life?

Behind the door, I heard something heavy move.

A low sound.

Almost like a growl.

Deep.

Animals.

Not human.

I turned slowly.

The door was still closed.

But for one second

I could swear I saw a shadow under the gap.

Too large.

Too wide.

Not shaped like a man.

My breath caught.

What are you?

Before I could think further, footsteps approached.

And a cold voice spoke from the corridor behind me.

"Well," a man said softly, "so you're the girl the Alpha can't stop staring at."

I turned.

A stranger smiled at me.

But his eyes were sharp.

Dangerous.

I'm interested.

"Let's talk," he said.

My stomach dropped.

How does he know that?

How many people were watching me tonight?

And why?

Behind the door, the Alpha whispered my scent like a prayer.

In front of me, a stranger smiled like a threat.

And for the first time in my life...

I realized I wasn't invisible anymore.

I was being hunted.

They wouldn't stop touching me.

At first, it was small things.

A hand brushing my waist.

Fingers grazing my arm when they didn't need to.

Someone standing too close behind me.

Too close. Too warm. Too heavy.

I told myself it was an accident.

Crowded party.

Busy night.

People bump into each other.

Normal.

But my skin kept crawling.

Like ants under my flesh.

Like something was wrong.

Very wrong.

I tightened my grip on the tray.

Smile.

Serve.

Walk away.

Don't cause trouble.

Don't make a scene.

That's how girls like me survive.

"Hey, waitress."

I stopped.

A man snapped his fingers at me.

Not waved.

Not called.

Snapped.

Like calling a dog.

"Drink," he said.

I poured.

He didn't even look at me.

Just stared at my chest.

Slow. Open. Shameless.

My throat burned.

"Anything else, sir?" I asked.

He smirked. "Yeah. Smile more."

I forced one.

He leaned closer. "Pretty girls shouldn't look sad. Makes men uncomfortable."

My chest tightened.

Since when did my face exist to make men comfortable?

Before I could answer, someone else grabbed the tray.

"Over here."

Then another voice.

"Girl, two more glasses."

Then another hand.

"Come closer. I can't hear you."

Too many.

Too fast.

I moved from one group to another.

But somehow

Every time

It was the same man.

The same eyes.

The same smirks.

Like they were following me.

No.

Not following.

Herding.

My steps slowed.

Wait.

That's not normal.

I looked around for Sienna.

Couldn't see her.

Looked for other staff.

Gone.

Where did everyone go?

A minute ago there were five waiters near me.

Now I was alone.

Just me and them.

My heart skipped.

Did they send everyone away?

Why?

"Drink with us."

A glass was pushed into my hand.

"I'm working," I said.

"Just one."

"I'm not allowed."

"Relax. We won't tell."

His smile didn't reach his eyes.

Something ugly hid there.

Something hungry.

"I said no," I repeated.

He stepped closer.

Too close.

"Don't be rude."

"I'm not"

"Drink."

The word wasn't a request.

It was a command.

My chest tightened.

The glass pressed harder into my hand.

Liquid sloshed.

Dark red.

Wine.

Or something else.

"Please," I said quietly. "I really can't."

Another man laughed. "She thinks she's special."

"Yeah. Acting expensive in a cheap uniform."

"Maybe she needs help loosening up."

My stomach dropped.

Loosening up.

I'd heard that phrase before.

It never ended well.

I tried to step back.

Someone blocked me.

I turned.

Another body.

Another wall.

They had formed a circle around me.

When did that happen?

How did I not notice?

My pulse was hammered.

This is bad.

This is really bad.

"Hey," I said, forcing my voice steady. "Move. Guests need drinks."

"We're guests," one of them said.

Laughter.

Low.

Ugly.

One of them leaned near my ear.

"You smell nice," he whispered.

I flinched.

"Stop."

He chuckled. "Scared?"

"Yes."

The honesty surprised even me.

They laughed harder.

Predators.

That's what they felt like.

Not men.

Predators.

And me

Prey.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my chin.

Forced my face up.

"Look at me when I talk to you."

Rage flashed through me.

"I said let go."

"Or what?"

My mind screamed for Sienna.

For anyone.

For help.

But the music was loud.

And no one looked our way.

Like this corner didn't exist.

Like we were invisible.

Like someone planned it that way.

A new voice cut in.

Smooth.

Cold.

The same man from earlier.

The one in the hallway after Roman.

The stranger with the dangerous smile.

He stepped closer.

"Well," he said lightly, "this is ugly."

The men stiffened.

"Back off," one muttered.

The stranger smiled. "You're making a mess at a King's party. That's stupid."

"So?"

"So stupid men disappear."

Silence.

They backed away a little.

Not much.

But enough.

I breathed out.

"Thank you," I whispered.

He looked at me carefully.

Like I was an object.

Not a person.

"You're the one the Alpha noticed, right?" he said softly.

My heart skipped.

"What?"

He tilted his head. "Don't pretend. Half the room saw it."

Saw what?

Him staring?

Why would that matter?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

"Interesting," he murmured.

He picked up the glass from my tray.

Swirled it.

Then handed it to me.

"Drink," he said.

I shook my head. "No."

His smile stayed.

But his eyes hardened.

"It's rude to refuse."

"I said no."

He leaned closer.

"So you only drink for him?"

My chest tightened.

"I don't even know him."

"Then prove it."

The glass pressed to my lips.

My hands shook.

If I fight, they'll get angry.

If I drink, maybe they'll leave me alone.

Just one sip.

Just survive.

I took a small swallow.

Bitter.

Strange.

Not wine.

My stomach dropped.

Too late.

"Good girl," he said.

My skin crawled.

He walked away like nothing happened.

Like he hadn't just forced me.

Like this was normal.

Ten minutes later, my legs felt weak.

My head is light.

The tray felt heavy.

Too heavy.

What's wrong with me?

I barely drank.

My vision blurred.

The music sounded far away.

My fingers trembled.

No.

No no no.

They drugged me.

Panic exploded in my chest.

I need Sienna.

I need

My knees buckled.

Strong arms caught me.

But not gentle ones.

Rough.

Greedy.

"Easy," someone said. "She's about to fall."

"Take her upstairs."

"Yeah. Before someone sees."

My heart pounded.

"No," I whispered. "Let me go."

My voice sounded small.

Weak.

Like a child.

They lifted me.

Carried me.

My head spun.

I tried to fight.

My hands barely moved.

My body wasn't listening.

Tears burned my eyes.

Not like this.

Please not like this.

Not again.

Not helpless.

Not small.

Not nothing.

"Put me down," I begged.

"Relax," someone laughed. "We're helping you."

Liar.

Liar.

Liar.

My vision blurred more.

Doors passed.

Hallways.

My mind screamed.

But my body wouldn't obey.

Why am I so weak?

Why can't I fight?

Then a voice.

Deep.

Cold.

Deadly calm.

"Put her down."

Everything stopped.

Even my heart.

I knew that voice.

Even half-conscious.

Even terrified.

Him.

The men holding me stiffened.

"Mind your business," one snapped.

Silence.

Then slow footsteps.

Closer.

Closer.

"You're holding something that belongs to me," he said quietly.

Something changed in the air.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

Like a storm.

"She's just staff"

The next second

A crash.

A scream.

A body flying.

I blinked.

One man slammed into the wall.

Another on the floor.

Blood.

So fast.

Too fast.

He moved like lightning.

Like violence given shape.

"Touch her again," he growled, voice low and animal, "and you die."

Not shouting.

Not threatening.

Promising.

The men froze.

Fear filled their faces.

Real fear.

They dropped me.

I stumbled.

Before I hit the ground

Strong arms caught me.

Careful this time.

Gentle.

Like I was glass.

"Look at me," he said softly.

I tried.

His face blurred.

But I saw his eyes.

Bright.

Wild.

Gold.

Not normal.

Not human.

My breath hitched.

"What did they give you?" he asked.

"I... don't know..."

His jaw tightened.

Rage flashed so hard it scared me.

"I'll kill them," he muttered.

"No," I whispered weakly.

He looked down at me.

Something changed in his expression.

Not anger.

Not dominance.

Fear.

"You're shaking," he said.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

His hand touched my cheek.

Warm.

Steady.

Safe.

Why does he feel safe?

Why him?

Why now?

My fingers clutched his shirt.

Tight.

Like if I let go, I'd fall into darkness.

"Don't leave," I whispered.

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His eyes softened.

"I won't," he said.

And somehow

I believed him.

He lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing.

Like I mattered.

Like I was his.

And as my head rested against his chest, listening to his wild, furious heartbeat, one thought echoed through my fading mind

Why does the most dangerous man in this house feel like the only place I'm safe?