The Disgrace Beta’s Daughter: A Stripper for the Alpha King

Amara’s POV

There was a time when the name Quinn meant something.

People used to smile when they saw us.

Pack members greeted my father with respect. Guards bowed their heads when he walked through the palace gates. Noble families invited us to dinners, celebrations, and every important gathering in the kingdom.

My father had been the Beta of the Royal Pack.

Second only to the Alpha King.

And I had been proud to be his daughter.

Back then, I never understood how fast respect could disappear.

How quickly people could turn their backs on you.

How one accusation could destroy an entire family.

Now, when people heard the name Quinn, they whispered.

Traitors.

Disgraced.

Cursed.

Sometimes, I wondered which word they enjoyed using the most.

I pushed those thoughts away and stared at the cracked ceiling above my bed.

A thin line ran from one corner to the other.

It had been there since we moved into this house three years ago.

The landlord had promised to fix it.

He never did.

Then again, there were many things in this house that needed fixing.

The broken window in the kitchen.

The leaking pipe behind the bathroom wall.

The old wooden door that needed to be pushed twice before it closed properly.

None of it bothered me anymore.

This was home now.

Not the beautiful estate I grew up in.

Not the large house with marble floors, gardens, guards, and servants.

That house had been taken from us after my father was arrested.

Everything had been taken.

Our money.

Our land.

Our title.

Our respect.

And finally, my father.

I closed my eyes.

Even after all these years, thinking about him still hurt.

My father had always been a strong man.

Beta Marcus Quinn.

People feared him, but I never did.

To me, he was the man who carried me on his shoulders when I was little.

The man who taught me how to fight.

The man who told me that being a wolf was not only about strength.

“It is about loyalty,” he used to say.

Maybe that was the cruelest part.

He had spent his whole life serving the crown.

Then the crown called him a traitor.

They accused him of secretly working with enemies outside the kingdom.

They said he had passed royal information to rival packs.

They said he planned to betray the throne.

My father denied everything.

He begged for a proper investigation.

He asked for witnesses.

He asked to speak before the council.

None of it mattered.

The judgment had already been made.

And the man who approved it was Alpha King Radex Octavian.

Even now, his name made my stomach twist.

Radex Octavian.

The most powerful Alpha in the kingdom.

The man everyone respected.

The man people said could make an entire room fall silent with one look.

He had signed the judgment.

He had allowed my father to be stripped of his title.

He had watched him get dragged away in chains.

I had been there.

I remembered everything.

My mother crying.

My father’s face.

The guards holding his arms.

The cold expression of the royal council.

And Radex sitting above them.

Silent.

Untouchable.

Powerful.

I hated him for that.

Maybe I always would.

My father died in prison six months later.

They called it an illness.

I never believed them.

My father had been healthy when they took him.

Strong.

Sharp.

Alive.

Then suddenly, he was dead.

No final words.

No proper goodbye.

No body released until days later.

No real explanation.

Just a cold letter from the palace.

I swallowed hard and sat up.

Thinking about the past would not pay today’s bills.

I reached for the envelope lying beside me on the small table.

I already knew what was inside.

Still, I opened it.

FINAL WARNING.

My chest tightened.

The words looked bigger every time I read them.

Three months of unpaid rent.

If payment was not made within seven days, we would be asked to leave.

Asked.

I almost laughed.

Thrown out would have been more honest.

I folded the letter quickly when I heard footsteps outside my room.

A second later, my mother appeared at the door.

“Amara?”

I forced a smile.

“Yes, Mama?”

She looked tired.

She always looked tired now.

There was a time when my mother wore silk dresses and expensive jewelry.

Now she wore a faded blue gown that had been repaired twice near the sleeves.

Still, she tried to smile.

“Have you eaten?”

I nodded.

It was a lie.

She frowned.

“You are lying.”

I laughed softly.

“How do you always know?”

“Because I gave birth to you.”

She entered the room and sat beside me.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then she looked at the envelope in my hand.

My fingers tightened around it.

“What is that?”

“Nothing.”

“Amara.”

“It is just work.”

Another lie.

I hated lying to her.

But what else could I do?

She already worried enough.

If she knew how bad things were, she would blame herself.

And if she knew what I did every night to keep us alive…

I did not even want to imagine it.

My mother reached out and touched my cheek.

“You work too much.”

“I am fine.”

“You come home late. You barely sleep.”

“I said I am fine.”

My answer came out sharper than I intended.

Her hand fell away.

Guilt hit me immediately.

“I’m sorry.”

She gave me a small smile.

“I know you are trying to help.”

I looked away.

Trying.

That was one word for it.

Desperate was another.

We had sold almost everything valuable years ago.

My mother’s jewelry.

My father’s watches.

The last pieces of silver from our old house.

Even some of my childhood things.

Still, it had never been enough.

Food cost money.

Medicine cost money.

Rent cost money.

Survival cost money.

And respect did not pay bills.

My mother sighed.

“Maybe I should ask someone from the old pack.”

My whole body became tense.

“No.”

“Amara—”

“No.”

She looked at me.

“We still know people.”

“No, we do not.”

“That is not true.”

“Yes, it is.”

My voice broke slightly.

“The moment Father was accused, they disappeared.”

She said nothing.

Because she knew I was right.

People who once ate at our table had crossed the road to avoid us.

Women who used to hug my mother at parties suddenly acted like they did not know her.

Men who called my father brother had remained silent while he was dragged away.

I would rather sleep on the street than beg any of them for help.

“We will manage,” I said.

“How?”

I looked at her.

“I have work.”

Her expression softened.

“You should not have to carry all this alone.”

“I am not.”

Another lie.

I was carrying all of it alone.

But she did not need to know that.

Not yet.

I stood and kissed her forehead.

“Go rest.”

She studied me for a moment before finally leaving.

The second the door closed, my smile disappeared.

I looked down at the letter again.

Seven days.

I had seven days to find enough money for three months of rent.

I already had some saved.

Not enough.

But tonight could change that.

I glanced at the clock.

6:42 p.m.

Time to get ready.

I locked my bedroom door.

Then I pulled an old suitcase from underneath my bed.

Inside it was another life.

Black heels.

Makeup.

Perfume.

A dark red dress.

A long black wig.

And the mask.

I picked it up slowly.

Black lace covered the edges.

Small red stones decorated the sides.

It had been expensive.

Too expensive.

But it had been worth it.

The mask was the only reason I could live two different lives.

By day, I was Amara Quinn.

The disgraced Beta’s daughter.

By night…

I became someone else.

I sat in front of the small mirror on my table and started with my makeup.

Foundation.

Powder.

Dark eyeshadow.

Red lipstick.

Everything heavier than I would ever wear normally.

Then I fixed the long black wig over my natural hair.

By the time I was done, I barely recognized myself.

Good.

That was the point.

I slipped into the red dress.

It hugged my body closely.

I stared at my reflection.

For one second, shame crawled up my chest.

I pushed it down.

There was nothing to be ashamed of.

I was surviving.

That was all.

I was not hurting anyone.

I was not stealing.

I was not begging.

I was doing what I had to do.

I picked up the mask and slowly placed it over my face.

Amara Quinn disappeared.

Scarlet stared back at me.

Confident.

Beautiful.

Mysterious.

Untouchable.

I liked Scarlet sometimes.

She was everything I struggled to be during the day.

Scarlet did not care what people thought.

Scarlet did not cry over old memories.

Scarlet did not think about prison cells or dead fathers.

Scarlet only cared about getting through the night.

And getting paid.

I left through my bedroom window.

My mother thought I worked evening shifts at a restaurant across town.

If she ever discovered the truth, I did not know what I would tell her.

The streets grew brighter as I moved toward the entertainment district.

Music filled the air.

Expensive cars passed me.

Men and women dressed in luxury walked between clubs and restaurants.

At the center of it all stood Eclipse.

The most private supernatural nightclub in the capital.

Humans were not allowed inside.

Only wolves, Lycans, witches, vampires, and a few other supernatural beings with enough money or power could enter.

Eclipse had rules.

No real names.

No unwanted touching.

No removing a performer’s mask.

No questions about their lives outside the club.

That was why I had chosen it.

Nobody here knew who I was.

Nobody cared.

To them, I was Scarlet.

One of the club’s most popular masked dancers.

I entered through the staff door and walked toward the dressing room.

“Scarlet!”

I turned.

Lena, another dancer, waved at me.

“You are late.”

“I am three minutes early.”

“That is late according to Mara.”

I rolled my eyes.

Mara was our manager.

She believed fifteen minutes early meant on time.

I entered the dressing room.

Music vibrated through the walls.

Girls were fixing their makeup.

Someone was laughing loudly near the mirrors.

Another dancer was complaining about a customer from the previous night.

Normal.

Familiar.

Safe.

This place had become strangely comfortable to me.

Not because I loved what I did.

But because nobody looked at me here and saw a traitor’s daughter.

Nobody whispered Quinn behind my back.

Nobody asked about my father.

Here, I was only Scarlet.

And sometimes, that was enough.

I checked my mask again.

Perfect.

One dance.

Then another.

Then another.

Enough money to get closer to paying the rent.

That was all tonight needed to be.

Simple.

I was about to step toward the stage entrance when Mara suddenly appeared.

Her face looked tense.

Very tense.

I frowned.

“What happened?”

She grabbed my arm.

“Change of plan.”

“What?”

“You are opening the next set.”

“I thought Ivy was opening.”

“She was.”

“Then why—”

“The royal party just arrived.”

My heart stopped.

For a second, I thought I had heard her wrong.

“The what?”

Mara leaned closer.

“The royal party.”

Cold spread through my body.

Several girls nearby immediately started whispering.

Mara continued.

“Three Alphas. Two royal guards. Some council members.”

I barely heard the rest.

Then she said the one name I never wanted to hear.

“Alpha King Radex Octavian is sitting in the VIP section.”

Everything inside me went still.

Radex.

Here.

Tonight.

My fingers tightened around the edge of my mask.

The man who destroyed my family was sitting only a few rooms away.

And in less than five minutes…

I was supposed to dance for him.

Radex’s POV

I hated nightclubs.

Too loud.

Too crowded.

Too many people pretending to enjoy themselves.

The music was heavy enough to shake the floor beneath my shoes, and the lights changed every few seconds.

Red.

Blue.

Purple.

Then darkness again.

I sat in the private VIP section of Eclipse with one hand around a glass I had barely touched.

Across from me, several Alphas were laughing over something I did not care enough to listen to.

Two nobles had already ordered another bottle.

Someone else was watching the dancers like his life depended on it.

I looked down at my phone instead.

Another message from the royal council.

I opened it.