Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

Accidental Surrogate for Alpha by Caroline Above Story Chapter 116

Chapter 116 – Reeling

Ella

Hugo, Sinclair and I are all staring at the television with wide eyes and slack jaws, unable to process the images flitting across the screen. It seems like every time we manage to take a few steps forward, Lydia and the Prince find a way to send us reeling back – and this is no exception.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Hugo expresses, obviously overwhelmed. “Why would he risk losing the pack’s sympathy by parading around another woman so soon after his wife’s death?”

“Trust me, Hugo – Damon isn’t the one calling the shots here. This is all Lydia.” Sinclair states gruffly. “She’s going to force her way onto the throne one way or another. Right now she’s playing the doting friend, but mark my words, by the time the election ends she’ll be in his bed.”

“How bad is this?’ I ask, looking up at Sinclair’s handsome face, “Does she have information that could hurt you?”

Sinclair squeezes my shoulders, “She knows some secrets.” He relates, “but luckily nothing I could imagine as a smoking gun. In fact most of what she knows would be more harmful to the Prince – things like my father’s attack. Things the public believes were accidents but our private investigators proved malicious.” His mouth flattens into a hard line. “The real danger is that she knows how we think, how we operate. Not to mention that the Prince doesn’t have more than two brain cells to rub together, but Lydia has plenty.”

“So what do we do?” I ask anxiously, my head replaying the news reel over and over again. “My bed rest isn’t common knowledge, and they’re making it sound like my absence from the public eye is suspicious. Do we tell everyone about my condition? Or do we make an appearance?”

“I’m afraid making an appearance might play right into their hands. This could be some sort of attempt to lure us out of hiding.” Hugo advises, looking very grim indeed.

a fact which comes as quite a surprise, since my hearing has never been so sharp before.

almost every day since we agreed to be invalids together, and he’s been an invaluable help since I learned my

allow me to strut around nude the way Sinclair does – and I’m definitely not changing in front of Hugo. When I emerge, Sinclair is also dressed, though much more formally than I

around the breakfast table, the men analyzing these recent developments in low, serious voices, and me feeling like an outsider eavesdropping on matters I can’t begin to understand. It’s

eyes to me. They’ve been going around in circles for more than half an hour, debating how we should respond

what happened with Lydia’s husband? I mean the Princess is dead, but Lydia’s still

Instead of trying to understand their motivations, we can simply leave it at knowing they’re corrupt and respond without playing into their hands. After all, they’ll be expecting some sort of countermove to challenge the media’s narrative, but we might be able to spin ourselves out of the hot seat

up her husband and causing drama.” Hugo

over, his features are still drawn with worry. “I still don’t like it. I think it’s the best hope we have, but something about this entire situation just doesn’t seem

Hugo scoffs, “You don’t need to convene a blue-ribbon committee to

mean, I feel like I’m missing something.” Sinclair replies drying. “There’s

beginning that Princess Angeline’s death felt off – like a political scheme.” I

Prince is too

and then he clenches them shut, closing his hand into a fist and swearing

who isn’t too unimaginative?” Sinclair growls, scanning

he’s not the type to impulsively destroy one of his prized possessions. But Lydia wouldn’t have any reservations about getting

you are?” I gape, both certain I’ve understood and yet

dining table. “If the Prince had lost his temper and beat her to death, I wouldn’t question it. And if there was some sort

family would have staged her death and spun the details in a way

planned, then why haven’t they jumped on the golden opportunity to lay blame and cast aspersions? Why haven’t the Prince and his son been parading their grief around Moon Valley for all to see?” He gesticulates, getting more and more enthused now. “I don’t think anyone in the palace knew this was coming. I think Lydia got rid of her competition and slid into the role of ‘concerned friend’ in