The Lycan King’s Secret Child: Rejected Mate Billionaire Werewolf

The morning sun streamed through the large windows of the Silvercrest Times newsroom, casting a golden hue over the organized chaos. Reporters hustled between desks, phones rang incessantly, and the air buzzed with the urgency of breaking news. Amidst the frenzy, Amelia Hart sat at her cluttered desk, eyes focused on her computer screen as she typed away.

Amelia: Muttering to herself ‘Just need to tighten this paragraph, and it’s done.’

Her concentration was broken by a familiar voice.

Sophie: ‘Hey, Amelia! Lunch later?’

Amelia looked up to see her best friend and colleague, Sophie Turner, leaning over the partition with a hopeful grin.

Amelia: ‘Can’t today, Soph. Got a pile of work to get through.’

Sophie: ‘You always have a pile of work. Come on, you need a break.’

Amelia: Smiling apologetically ‘Rain check? I promise we’ll catch up soon.’

Sophie: Sighing dramatically ‘Fine, but you owe me. Don’t work too hard!’

As Sophie walked away, Amelia returned to her screen, only to be interrupted again—this time by the booming voice of her editor, Mr. Jonathan Pierce.

Mr. Pierce: ‘Hart! My office, now.’

Amelia glanced at the clock. It was unusual for Mr. Pierce to call meetings this early.

Amelia: Standing up ‘Be right there.’

She grabbed her notepad and pen, making her way through the maze of desks to the glass-walled corner office. Mr. Pierce was a stout man in his late fifties, with silver hair and a no-nonsense demeanor. He gestured for her to sit.

Mr. Pierce: ‘Close the door.’

She did as instructed and took a seat.

Amelia: ‘What’s up, Mr. Pierce?’

Mr. Pierce: Leaning forward ‘I’ve got an assignment for you. High priority.’

Amelia: Intrigued ‘I’m listening.’

Mr. Pierce: ‘You know Alexander Drakov?’

Amelia: Her heart skipped a beat ‘The billionaire philanthropist? I, uh, met him briefly at the gala last night.’

Mr. Pierce: Raising an eyebrow ‘Is that so? Well, you’re ahead of the game then. I want an in-depth piece on him—something no one else has managed to get.’

Amelia: ‘An exclusive interview?’

Mr. Pierce: ‘More than that. I want his story. The man is a mystery—no one knows much about his past, how he built his empire, why he’s so reclusive. Uncover that, and we’ve got a headline that’ll sell papers like hotcakes.’

Amelia: Excited yet cautious ‘He’s notoriously private. It won’t be easy.’

Mr. Pierce: Smirking ‘Since when do you shy away from a challenge?’

Amelia: Grinning ‘Fair point.’

Mr. Pierce: ‘I need something solid in two weeks. Think you can handle it?’

Amelia: ‘Absolutely.’

Mr. Pierce: ‘Good. And Hart—be careful. Men like Drakov don’t like their secrets exposed.’

Amelia: ‘I can handle myself.’

Mr. Pierce: ‘I know you can. That’s why I’m giving you this assignment. Now get to it.’

She stood up, tucking her notepad under her arm.

Amelia: ‘Thanks for the opportunity.’

Mr. Pierce: ‘Don’t thank me yet. Bring me a story.’

Back at her desk, Amelia couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. Her brief encounter with Xander the previous night had left an impression, and now she had a professional reason to delve deeper.

Her phone buzzed with a text message from Sophie.

Sophie (Text): ‘Lunch tomorrow then?’

Amelia (Text): ‘Definitely. Have news to share.’

She set her phone aside and began jotting down a plan. First step: gather all available information on Alexander Drakov.

Hours passed as she combed through online articles, financial reports, and public records. Frustration grew as she realized how little information was available.

Amelia: Talking to herself ‘How does a man this influential leave so few traces?’

Her colleague, Jake Matthews, sauntered over, sipping coffee.

Jake: ‘Burning the midnight oil already?’

Amelia: ‘Just trying to crack the enigma that is Alexander Drakov.’

Jake: Whistling softly ‘Good luck with that. He’s like a ghost. Rumor has it he buys out any publication that digs too deep.’

Amelia: Smirking ‘Sounds like a challenge.’

Jake: ‘Just watch your back. Don’t want to see you disappear.’

Amelia: ‘Appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine.’

As Jake walked away, Amelia decided she needed a new approach. Perhaps visiting places associated with Drakov would yield more clues.

She grabbed her bag and headed toward Mr. Pierce’s office, knocking lightly on the open door.

Mr. Pierce: ‘Yes?’

Amelia: ‘I’m heading out to do some fieldwork.’

Mr. Pierce: ‘Stay safe.’

Amelia: ‘Always.’

She made her way to the elevator, descending to the lobby where the receptionist, Clara, gave her a cheerful wave.

Clara: ‘Heading out early?’

Amelia: ‘Just chasing a lead.’

Clara: ‘Good luck!’

Outside, the city was alive with midday hustle. Amelia hailed a cab and directed the driver to the address of Drakov Industries.

The cab pulled up in front of a sleek, towering skyscraper made of steel and glass. The building exuded power and modernity.

Inside the grand lobby, she approached the front desk where a poised receptionist greeted her.

Receptionist: ‘Welcome to Drakov Industries. How may I assist you?’

Amelia: ‘Hi, I’m Amelia Hart from the Silvercrest Times. I was hoping to speak with someone from Mr. Drakov’s public relations team.’

Receptionist: Maintaining a polite smile ‘Do you have an appointment?’

Amelia: ‘Unfortunately, I don’t. But if someone is available, it would only take a few minutes.’

Receptionist: ‘Let me check. Please wait a moment.’

As the receptionist made a phone call, Amelia glanced around the lobby. Security cameras were discreetly positioned, and well-dressed employees moved with purpose.

Her attention was drawn to a man standing near the elevators—tall, with dark hair slicked back, and eyes that seemed to assess everything at once. He noticed her gaze and gave a curt nod before stepping into an elevator.

Receptionist: ‘I’m sorry, but our PR representatives are all in meetings today. I can take your contact information and have someone reach out to you.’

Amelia: Handing over her business card ‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

Receptionist: ‘Is there anything else I can assist you with?’

Amelia: ‘Actually, is Mr. Drakov in today?’

Receptionist: Her smile tightened slightly ‘I’m not at liberty to disclose Mr. Drakov’s schedule.’

Amelia: Nodding ‘Of course. Thanks for your help.’

As she exited the building, her phone buzzed with a call from Sophie.

Amelia: ‘Hey, Soph.’

Sophie: ‘Got a minute?’

Amelia: ‘For you, always. What’s up?’

Sophie: ‘I’ve been digging around about Drakov, like you asked. Found some interesting tidbits.’

Amelia: Excited ‘Tell me everything.’

Sophie: ‘Not over the phone. Meet me at the cafe on Fifth?’

Amelia: ‘On my way.’

She walked the few blocks to their favorite spot, a cozy cafe with outdoor seating. Sophie was already at a table, a folder in hand.

Amelia: Sitting down ‘You work fast.’

Sophie: ‘What can I say? I’m amazing.’

Amelia: ‘So, what did you find?’

Sophie: Leaning in ‘First off, Drakov’s background is practically non-existent ten years ago. No records, no history.’

Amelia: ‘I noticed that. It’s bizarre.’

Sophie: ‘But get this—he’s been buying up large tracts of land in remote areas all over the country.’

Amelia: ‘Why would a billionaire invest in the middle of nowhere?’

Sophie: ‘Exactly. Also, there are reports of strange occurrences near these properties—wild animal sightings, unexplained noises.’

Amelia: Raising an eyebrow ‘Sounds like tabloid fodder.’

Sophie: ‘Maybe, but where there’s smoke, there’s fire. I think there’s more to this guy than meets the eye.’

Amelia: ‘Any idea where I should start looking?’

Sophie: ‘There’s a small town called Shadow Ridge about two hours north. He owns a massive estate there, and the locals have plenty of stories.’

Amelia: ‘Road trip it is.’

Sophie: ‘Be careful, Amelia. This feels… off.’

Amelia: ‘When have I ever let that stop me?’

Sophie: Sighing ‘Just promise you’ll check in.’

Amelia: ‘Promise.’

They ordered coffee and chatted a bit more before parting ways. As Amelia walked back toward her office, her mind raced with possibilities.

Her phone rang—an unknown number.

Amelia: ‘Hello, this is Amelia Hart.’

Voice: ‘Miss Hart, this is Marcus Hale, head of security for Drakov Industries.’

Amelia: Surprised ‘Oh, Mr. Hale. I was hoping someone would get back to me.’

Marcus: ‘I understand you’re seeking information on Mr. Drakov.’

Amelia: ‘Yes, I’d like to arrange an interview.’

Marcus: ‘Mr. Drakov is a very private man. He doesn’t grant interviews.’

Amelia: ‘Surely he could make an exception? It would be a great opportunity to share his philanthropic work with the public.’

Marcus: ‘I appreciate your enthusiasm, but the answer is no.’

Amelia: Not giving up ‘Perhaps there’s someone else I could speak with? A spokesperson?’

Marcus: ‘Our official statements are available on our website. Have a good day, Miss Hart.’

He hung up before she could respond.

Amelia: To herself ‘Well, that was curt.’

Undeterred, she decided to proceed with her plan to visit Shadow Ridge.

The next morning, Amelia loaded up her car and set off. The cityscape gradually gave way to rolling hills and dense forests. The air was crisp, and the sky a clear blue.

As she approached Shadow Ridge, the atmosphere shifted. The small town had an old-world charm, but there was an undercurrent of unease.

She stopped at a local diner, stepping inside to the ring of a bell above the door. A few patrons glanced her way before returning to their meals.

The waitress, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, approached.

Waitress: ‘Morning, hon. What can I get you?’

Amelia: ‘Just coffee, please.’

She settled at the counter.

Waitress: Pouring the coffee ‘Passing through?’

Amelia: ‘Visiting, actually. Heard this is a beautiful area.’

Waitress: ‘It has its moments.’

Amelia decided to probe.

Amelia: ‘I also heard there’s a large estate nearby, owned by Alexander Drakov. Know anything about it?’

The waitress’s expression stiffened slightly.

Waitress: ‘Don’t know much about that.’

Amelia: ‘Really? Must be hard to miss.’

Waitress: ‘Best to mind your own business around here, dear.’

A man at the end of the counter interjected.

Local Man: ‘Strangers poking around tend to stir up trouble.’

Amelia: Feigning innocence ‘I don’t mean to cause any issues. Just curious.’

Local Man: ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’

The waitress shot him a warning look.

Waitress: ‘That’s enough, Tom.’

Amelia sensed she wouldn’t get any more information here.

Amelia: ‘Thanks for the coffee.’

She left a generous tip and headed back to her car. As she drove toward the outskirts of town, she spotted a narrow road leading into the woods, a sign reading ‘Private Property—No Trespassing.’

She parked discreetly and decided to proceed on foot.

The forest was thick, sunlight filtering through the canopy above. The air was filled with the scent of pine and earth.

After walking for about twenty minutes, she reached a clearing. Before her stood an imposing mansion—dark stone walls, tall windows, and an air of mystery.

She pulled out her camera, snapping photos from a distance.

Voice Behind Her: ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’

Startled, she turned to see a man emerging from the trees—tall, with piercing green eyes and a stern expression.

Amelia: ‘Who are you?’

Man: ‘I should ask you the same question.’

Amelia: ‘I’m Amelia Hart, a journalist with the Silvercrest Times.’

Man: ‘This is private property. You’re trespassing.’

Amelia: Trying to remain calm ‘I didn’t realize. I was just exploring.’

Man: ‘Exploring can be dangerous around here.’

She noticed a subtle tension in his posture, as if he were ready to pounce.

Amelia: ‘Is that a threat?’

Man: Taking a step closer ‘A warning.’

Before she could respond, another voice cut through the air.

Xander: ‘That will be all, Tobias.’

Amelia’s heart skipped as she saw Alexander Drakov emerge from the shadows, his gaze fixed on her.

Tobias: ‘But sir—’

Xander: Firmly ‘I said, that will be all.’

Tobias shot Amelia a final wary glance before retreating into the woods.

Amelia: Finding her voice ‘Mr. Drakov, I didn’t expect to see you here.’

Xander: Arching an eyebrow ‘Likewise, Miss Hart. You seem to have a habit of appearing in unexpected places.’

Amelia: ‘I could say the same about you.’

He gave a slight smile.

Xander: ‘What brings you to my humble abode?’

Amelia: Choosing her words carefully ‘I’m working on a piece about you. I was hoping we could arrange an interview.’

Xander: ‘Ah, ever the journalist.’

Amelia: ‘It’s my job.’

Xander: ‘And trespassing? Is that part of your job as well?’

Amelia: Flushing slightly ‘I apologize for the intrusion. I didn’t realize I was on private property until it was too late.’

Xander: ‘Apology accepted. But you must understand, I value my privacy.’

Amelia: ‘I do, but I also believe the public has a right to know more about the man behind the philanthropy.’

Xander: Studying her ‘Persistence is admirable, Miss Hart, but sometimes dangerous.’

Amelia: ‘Are you trying to scare me off?’

Xander: ‘Merely cautioning you.’

They stood in silence for a moment, the tension palpable.

Amelia: ‘If you won’t grant me an interview, perhaps you could answer one question.’

Xander: ‘Depends on the question.’

Amelia: ‘Why all the secrecy? What are you hiding?’

He regarded her thoughtfully.

Xander: ‘Everyone has secrets, Miss Hart. Some are simply more valuable than others.’

Amelia: ‘Value can be subjective.’

Xander: ‘Indeed. Now, if you’ll allow me, I’ll escort you back to your car.’

Amelia: Realizing she wasn’t going to get more ‘Alright.’

They walked side by side through the woods.

Amelia: ‘Your associate didn’t seem too pleased to see me.’

Xander: ‘Tobias is… protective.’

Amelia: ‘You must inspire a lot of loyalty.’

Xander: ‘Loyalty is earned.’

Amelia: ‘And how does one earn yours?’

He glanced at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Xander: ‘By respecting boundaries.’

They reached her car.

Xander: ‘Safe travels, Miss Hart.’

Amelia: ‘Thank you. And if you change your mind about the interview…’

Xander: ‘I’ll be sure to let you know.’

She got into her car, watching as he disappeared back into the trees. As she drove away, her mind raced with questions. There was definitely more to Alexander Drakov than he let on.

Her phone rang, startling her. It was Mr. Pierce.

Amelia: ‘Hello?’

Mr. Pierce: ‘Hart, where are you?’

Amelia: ‘Out following a lead.’

Mr. Pierce: ‘Well, get back here. We’ve got a problem.’

Amelia: Concerned ‘What kind of problem?’

Mr. Pierce: ‘Legal sent a notice. Seems Drakov Industries is threatening to sue for harassment.’

Amelia: ‘What? I haven’t done anything illegal.’

Mr. Pierce: ‘They’re claiming you’ve been trespassing and making unsolicited contact.’

Amelia: Frustrated ‘This is ridiculous.’

Mr. Pierce: ‘Agreed, but we need to handle this carefully. Get back here so we can strategize.’

Amelia: ‘On my way.’

She hung up, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Amelia: To herself ‘So that’s how he wants to play it.’

Back at the office, she met with Mr. Pierce and the legal team. After a lengthy discussion, they agreed to tread cautiously but not back down.

Later that evening, as she sat in her apartment, Amelia reflected on the day’s events. Her gaze fell upon the small pendant she had slipped into her pocket earlier—a simple silver wolf’s head. It must have fallen from someone’s possession at the estate.

She held it up, examining the intricate details.

Amelia: ‘What secrets are you hiding, Mr. Drakov?’

Determined more than ever, she knew she was onto something big. She just had to uncover it before he shut her out completely.