Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 258: First O

Chapter 258: First Official Address as PrMinisterial candidate

In a quiet house near Chelsea Old Church, Savannah Chandler stirred awake from her afternoon nap. The

councillor of The Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea had grown accustomed to these moments of stillness.

Politics had once consumed her, but now, in her later years, life often felt more like a gentle drift toward

retirement.

Savannah's journey had not begun in politics. She was once a schoolteacher, content with a quieter path. But

after her father’s death, the party had pressed her to stand for his vacant council seat. Reluctantly, she joined

politics and couldn't leave. Her father’s reputation for honesty and his deep bond with the community carried her

through election after election. She was his only child, and with his passing, all his legacy... both political and

personal... had passed into her hands.

Over time, Savannah had carved her own popularity. Even when she had once thought of stepping down, her

voters refused to let her go. She remained, the familiar face of the borough, even though the rival party always

dominated national contests in her constituency.

Her private life, however, had grown quieter. Widowed young, she had raised her two children largely on her

own. Her son, now a Major in the Army, had a family of his own. Her daughter had married an American

Businessman and settled in Hawthorne, California. These days, the house often felt too big for one woman and

her memories.

The shrill buzz of her mobile phone shattered the drowsy calm. She blinked, pushed her glasses onto her nose,

and reached for the device on the side table. The call had been going for stime; it must have been what

dragged her from sleep.

The screen lit up with a familiar name. Her daughter.

Savannah swiped to answer. Her voice was still heavy with sleep, threaded with sudden worry. "Hello, sweetie...

has something happened? You're calling this early."

On the other end ca light laugh. "No, Mom. It's already past eight here. We've been up for hours."

Savannah exhaled, the tension easing from her shoulders. "Oh, good. Everything's all right then. You usually

don’t callin the morning. So... what's up?"

"Mom, something did happen. Have you heard of a company called Orionix SpaceTech?" her daughter asked.

Savannah frowned, rubbing at her temple as she searched her memory. "No... | don’t recall any nlike

Orionix."

"It’s a rising space company from the US," her daughter explained quickly. "Unlike the others, they never went

public. So, no one really knows their value. But in rich circles, it's believed the owner is secretly among the top

ten richest people in the world. They live in the shadows. The point is... your son-in-law applied last month to

supply space-grade stainless steel to them. Several bigger companies also bid, and honestly, we thought we had

no chance."

"And?" Savannah prompted, sensing where this was heading.

"This morning," her daughter continued, voice trembling slightly, "a representative from Orionix cto our

home. They said we could secure the contract privately."

Savannah's brows lifted. "That is good news. Is that why you called?"

Her daughter's voice sharpened. "Letfinish. The tender was originally for five hundred million dollars over

five years. But Orionix has offered us a contract worth at least one billion... and they'll pay a hundred million

upfront, just for upgrading our facilities."

Savannah sat upright in her chair, her pulse quickening. "Why on earth would they do that?"

"That's why | had to call you." There was a pause, then her daughter said in a lower voice, "They want you to run

for the House of Commons in the upcoming election. The hundred million, they said, would also serve as

campaign funds."

Savannah's hand froze on the armrest. "What? Why would they want that? I'm just a councillor. This area has

never been favourable for our party at the national level. If | run, I'll most likely lose."

"I know, Mom." Her daughter's voice wavered. "But the representative was clear. Orionix will give us a two-

hundred-million contract for one year regardless. If you win, they'll extend it for four more. That's the condition."

"Did you ask what they want fromif | win the election? Such a vast amount... | am worried."

"| did." Her daughter hesitated. "He said they don’t want anything specific from you. Only that you support Lord

Anthony Hayward Chapman unconditionally."

Savannah's breath caught. "What? Are you tellingthis envoy was sent by our party leader? Are you certain?"

"I'm not sure," her daughter admitted. "He said it was irrelevant for us to know. That we should only concern

ourselves with the deal."

Savannah pressed her lips together, her mind turning swiftly. "That may be true... but what am | supposed to do?

We already have a candidate here. Yes, he’s lost the last two elections, but his influence in the local party is far

stronger than mine. If | put myself forward, I'll make an enemy of him. If | lose, I'll have no choice but to quit

politics altogether."

"Mom," her daughter said softly, "you already wanted to quit three years ago. Would that really be so terrible?

But if you win, our company will be secure... powerful even. With such a contract, we could move to the stock

market. Please, Mom, do this for me... for your grandchildren. It’s just one more election. You've fought them

before. I'll cover the funds. And besides... if the party is willing to spend a hundred million on you, surely they

have a plan for your victory. That's not a small investment."

Savannah was silent for a long time, weighing her daughter's plea against her instincts. Finally, she exhaled

slowly. "Very well. I'll do it. | never made money from politics anyway... if anything, | spent much of what Father

left me. If becoming an MP helps you, then I'll give it my best. What must | do?"

Her daughter's voice brightened. "All they ask is that you voluntarily apply for the party nomination and prepare

for campaign. They'll handle the rest. And don’t worry, Mom... | asked again and again. They promised you won't

be asked to do anything that might ruin your reputation with the voters."

ork

Over the past week, dozens of figures

from every corner of society had

been contacted in secrecy. Local

councillors, political staffers, lifelong

party supporters, ioe lin

families, splsitars) a union

oFidials, teachers, journalists,

doctors, leaders from the charity

sector, and retired military officers...

all had received quiet invitations.

Swere approached directly,

others through relatives, and some

through business partners. For many,

the thought of ever standing for the

House of Commons had never

crossed their minds, and yet they

were summoned all the same. The

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the latest chapter there!

Even sancient noble families, who had lost their titles and declined over tbut remained popular in their

regions, were contacted in secret. Many of them agreed to run for election after confirming that the party would

provide funds for their campaigns.

A surprising number of them submitted applications. Their names appearing on the lists caused unease among

local party leaders. Safe seats, marginal seats, even long-forgotten constituencies... it did not matter; all

candidates were called to London for interview.

Three panels were established for the

vetting process. Baron John

Constantine, Baroness Angela

Dodson, and Baron Ernest Prentice

presided over them as chairs, each

supported bysiting MBM

7

strong, Barfdidates arrived with

confidence, only to have their own

pasts laid bare before them. Files of

wrongdoing were produced... some

petty, others severe enough that, if

exposed, could end in prison

sentences. One by one, they were

forced into compromise. To protect

their futures, they withdrew, allowing

the central party to impose

replacements in constituencies

where victory was uncertain or where

sitting MPs had to be removed. The

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the latest chapter there!

When the approved candidate list was finally published, shock rippled through the grassroots. An astonishing

number of constituencies were left with only a single name... candidates chosen not by local vote, but by central

command.

Protests broke out. Local members voiced fury at being sidelined. Media outlets amplified their anger, and the

ruling party pounced on the story, eager to sow division within the opposition ranks.

The situation demanded a response.

, 2 q

To everyone's surprise, it cfrom

Baron Anthony Hayward Chapman

himself. In his first fies address as

Re MpiStariél & ndidate, he

confronted the matter head-on. He

declared that the replacements were

not arbitrary but necessary. Many of

the predecessors had failed...

through incompetence, declining

popularity, or worse, suspected

corruption. The content is on

novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

"The Stockport Scandal taught us bitter lessons," Baron Chapman said, his voice carried across airwaves. "This

party cannot repeat the sins of complacency. The people demand reform, and reform we have delivered. Where

there was weakness, we replaced it. Where there was dishonour, we cleansed it. And where there is doubt, we

will remain vigilant."

He invited the public to scrutinise the new candidates themselves. "If anyone possesses proof of wrongdoing of

our selected candidates, send it to the party. If verified, we will act without delay. We will change candidates,

because this movement belongs not to individuals... but to the kingdom."fficial Address as PrMinisterial

candidate

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