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