Alpha Boss, Baby Daddy - Chapter 20: Chapter 20

Kingston
I approved Cora’s salary advance without pressing further. She’d hesitated when I asked why she needed the money, and her silence said more than words ever could. Something was wrong, but she clearly didn’t want to share it.
I respected that. For now.
Still, as she walked out of my office, her shoulders were too tense, her pace too hurried. Not the kind of hurry that comes with excitement; this was the type rooted in anxiety.
I should have let it go. But my instincts were already sharpening.
I stayed late to finish reports, but I needed to clear my head, so I headed to the company gym to work off the tension. The gym had floor-to-ceiling windows, and as I moved through my last set of weighted squats, I caught a glimpse of movement in the parking lot below.
Cora.
She was standing near the edge of the lot, her back turned to the building. A man approached her, looking disheveled as he glanced around like he expected to be jumped. She handed him an envelope, and he handed her something in return. A photograph?
Cora slipped it into her coat without a word. No smile. No farewell. Just cold, fast business.
The man walked off, and Cora lingered there for a few seconds, then turned and hurried back inside. I realized then that I recognized the man.
Zach, our former Head of Security.
And Cora’s ex-husband.
The weights in my hands suddenly felt lighter than air. I dropped them onto the mat and pulled out my phone.
“Run a trace on someone for me,” I told our new Head of Security. “Name’s Zach. He used to work here.”
Twenty minutes later, I had my answer.
Zach had been fired after repeatedly using company assets to fuel a gambling and drinking habit. After his termination, he’d spiraled hard, borrowing money from the werewolf black market, skipping payments, and racking up over two hundred thousand dollars in debt. Not just to humans. To our kind as well.
My hands curled into fists. The urge to shred him apart was nearly feral.
But no, there were better ways to end a parasite like Zach. Quiet ways.
Later that evening, Cora and I stayed late in the office, going over department budgets. She sat across from me, her notes neat as always, her eyes unusually unfocused. She kept blinking down at the page like she had to remind herself what we were even doing.
I closed the report and looked at her.
“Why haven’t you officially divorced your ex-husband?”
She blinked up at me, startled. “What?”
I kept my voice steady, cool. “Your ex. Zach. Why haven’t you finalized your divorce? If this is going to keep bleeding into your work, I need to know.”
Her mouth opened, then closed again. I could see her debating whether to lie or not.
Finally, she reached into her bag and pulled out a thick, battered book: Werewolf-Human Marriage Law. The corners were frayed, and the pages marked up. She set it on the table between us like she’d been carrying this weight around for years.
“This,” she said quietly, “is why.”
She flipped to a dog-eared page and pointed to a clause highlighted in yellow.
“I’ve been studying this since I caught him and Amy cheating in our home. See here: ‘if a werewolf and a human divorce, custody of any children born in the marriage will automatically be awarded to the werewolf parent,’” she read aloud.
I sat back slowly.
My mind flashed to Billy. To the deal I’d made with Daisy and the wedding I’d promised to go through with just so our son wouldn’t be deemed illegitimate. I’d told myself it was the honorable thing to do.
But now, as I looked at Cora—her hands clenched in her lap, her jaw tight—I saw it from another angle.
Daisy wasn’t like Cora. She didn’t live and breathe for Billy’s safety, for his well-being. She wanted the title that came with being my wife. The access. The wedding that would raise her up from being just another human.
But still, there was nothing more precious to a mother than her child, and I wouldn’t be responsible for taking that away from Daisy if things somehow went array.
I couldn’t be like Zach.
I wouldn’t be like Zach.
“Draft me a risk assessment,” I said suddenly. “I need a report on werewolf-human relationships. I want legal, financial, emotional factors—all of it.”
She blinked. “Is this for… policy?”
“Yes,” I lied smoothly. “It’s for policy.”
She didn’t question it further. Just nodded and got to work.
Later that night, I returned to home and found Daisy twirling in front of the mirror in a long ivory gown. She beamed when she saw me, spinning on one heel.
“Isn’t it beautiful? I had it custom altered. Kingston, what do you think?”
I studied her carefully. “It’s… fine.”
Her smile faltered.
I walked past her and placed a folder on the dresser.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“The wedding’s off.”
Her face went as pale as her dress, then flushed red with disbelief. “What?”
“Read it.”
She opened the folder and scanned the top page. “Risk assessment… werewolf-human… What the hell is this?”
“I can’t marry you, Daisy,” I said, calm but firm. “You’ll still be honored here and respected by the Silverfang pack.”
I took a step back and crossed my arms over my chest. “As Billy’s mother, you’ll be treated with respect, but I can’t go through with a marriage built on false reasons or risk you losing custody of your son if things end poorly. I thought it was the only way to protect him, but it isn’t.”
She flipped through the pages, and then her eyes caught the signature at the bottom.
Cora’s name.
Her fingers clenched around the paper.
“She wrote this?” she asked, voice sharp and thin. “My sister made this.”
“She compiled the report, yes.” The fury in her eyes put me on edge. I realized then that I would defend Cora against the mother of my child, if need be.
But Daisy didn’t say anything. And perhaps that was worse.
The next day, I was flooded with work. Meetings back to back. A conference call. A dispute between two department heads over access to shared resources.
I didn’t even notice her sister’s name in the visitor log until hours later.
Daisy had come by to see Cora.
Cora mentioned it briefly in passing and said Daisy had invited her out shopping. Seemed friendly enough. Nothing suspicious.
So I let it go.
Until later that night.
I was reviewing projections on my office tablet when a private message notification appeared on my phone. From Cora’s number.
I opened it and froze.
It was a photo. A private photo.
Cora in a changing room, wearing a pale lace bralette. Not overtly vulgar—but intimate. Vulnerable. And not something I should have been seeing as her boss.
My jaw locked. I opened the message thread—but there was no history. No texts. Just that photo.
Somehow, our messages had been deleted.
My fingers flew across the screen as I tried to trace the time of the photo. Something didn’t sit right with me about it.
Cora was careful, respectful—overly so. And now she was suddenly sending me something like this?
Unless…
Unless she didn’t send it.