Alpha's Regret: The Seventh Time was Forever-Chapter 59 – The best friend you’ll ever have

Daisy had always known Damon was wealthy, but in her mind, his wealth had lived in the comfortable realm of millions, impressive but still within reach of comparison, still something Ravyn could tower over if he chose to flex hard enough.

Billions, though, that was a different universe entirely, a different level of power, the kind that shifted balances quietly without announcing itself. And as she stood there replaying his casual mention of fifty billion like it had been pocket change, something inside her recalibrated.

She had long ago learned how to position herself beside power without truly belonging to it. With Ravyn, she played her role well. In public, she was polished and poised, the graceful partner at his side.

In private gatherings, she adapted effortlessly, charming investors, smiling through conversations she barely cared about, laughing at jokes that weren’t funny because it kept her in the room.

But beneath all of that, she understood a truth she never admitted out loud. She felt more like an escort orbiting a throne than a cherished partner sharing it.

Damon, however, stood differently. He did not flaunt, did not chase validation. He spoke about money the way other men spoke about weather, and that calm, almost careless confidence unsettled her more than arrogance ever could.

He raised his brow slightly, a hint of pride flickering across his expression, though it wasn’t loud or obnoxious.

"I don’t mean to brag," he said smoothly, his voice carrying a quiet certainty that felt heavier than any boast, "but if things keep going bad for our Alpha, I’ll be richer than him. Don’t worry, though. I’d never sabotage his authority. Alpha positions are inherited, after all, unless the lineages are wiped away."

The last part hung in the air just a fraction longer than necessary, and Daisy’s eyes flickered with something strange, something calculating and sharp before she masked it with a mysterious little smile that didn’t quite reach her gaze.

For a second, it felt like they were both testing the temperature of something unspoken, both aware that power was not just about titles but about resources, influence, and timing.

Damon noticed the shift in her eyes, but he didn’t react. He kept his posture relaxed, his expression neutral, as though nothing had passed between them at all.

"Let’s go see Bryan," he said casually, breaking the tension as if it had never existed. "If anything, we can have him admitted to the hospital."

As they walked back toward the packhouse, Daisy’s mind refused to settle. Damon’s words echoed relentlessly, intertwining with her growing concern about Ravyn’s declining financial control.

Seraphine was bleeding him dry strategically, and Daisy felt it, even if Ravyn tried to mask it with confidence. A man without wealth was a man without leverage, and a man without leverage was, in her world, dangerously close to useless.

Damon, on the other hand, felt stable, calculated, and rising.

When they reached Bryan’s room, the air inside felt warm and heavy. Bryan lay asleep on the bed, his face slightly flushed, strands of hair sticking faintly to his damp forehead.

Damon crossed the room immediately, stepping close to the bed without hesitation, dipping a cloth into a bowl of water and gently dabbing Bryan’s forehead with careful movements that felt surprisingly tender.

"He’s sweating," Damon observed, his voice low but edged with concern.

"Yes," Daisy replied quickly, her tone confident and almost rehearsed. "The serum is working now. He’ll be fine."

But Damon remembered Seraphine’s warning, remembered her subtle suspicion, and something inside him tightened. He straightened slowly, turning toward Daisy with a serious expression that stripped away the earlier charm.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice steady but firm. "I honestly don’t trust the serum."

For a split second, Daisy’s composure wavered. It was small, barely noticeable, but Damon caught it. Her shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly before she forced a smile back into place.

"I made it myself," she said smoothly. "I’ll do better."

Damon raised his brows slightly, folding his arms across his chest in a way that felt more confrontational than casual now.

"Daisy," he began carefully, his gaze locking onto hers, "I know Doctor Raymond developed that serum. It’s fine if you want to take credit." His tone sharpened just a little. "I just want to know why."

The air in the room shifted immediately, thick and suffocating. Daisy felt it press against her skin like heat, like the walls had moved closer without warning.

Her pulse ticked faster, and she glanced briefly toward the doorway before stepping closer to him. "Come," she said quietly. "Let’s go to Ravyn’s study."

In the study, no servants lingered. No curious ears hovered behind doors. It was a controlled and safe space.

Once inside, she closed the door gently and turned toward him, lowering her voice.

"Who told you I didn’t produce that serum?" she asked, her tone deceptively calm but edged with warning.

Damon did not step back. He let a slow, assessing look travel over her before responding.

"It’s obvious," he said evenly. "You spend your day maintaining your beauty. You avoid training, and administrative responsibilities. But you love the financial side, and that’s fine. It’s your job to keep the pack in good financial standing."

Each word landed deliberately. Not loud, not accusatory. Just factual enough to sting.

A nervous smile crept onto Daisy’s lips, and for the first time since meeting him, she felt cornered. If Damon reported this to Ravyn, she would not only lose credibility, she would lose control.

Unlike the others, Damon was rich and powerful so it would not be right to threaten him like she would the others.

"I work," she insisted quickly, her tone tightening. "I’m just good at multitasking. As for the serum, I work on it at night when the pack is asleep. It’s quiet then. It helps me think."

Damon tilted his head slightly, studying her, and inside, he almost admired the smoothness of her lie.

"I don’t know why you’re lying to me," he said softly, his voice lowering in a way that felt more intimate than accusatory. "Because I’m the best friend you’ll ever have. Daisy, if you can’t trust me, then I can’t help you."