Piss Off, Alpha! You Chapter 144 I Will Keep Surviving

Chapter 144: Chapter 144 I Will Keep Surviving

SOPHIA’S POV

I looked at Declan standing in my way. His expression was filled with anger.

My wolf was on high alert. She could sense the dangerous energy radiating from him.

“What. Did. You. Say. To. Dahlia” he asked through gritted teeth.

"I don’t control anyone’s life, Declan," I said calmly "Not Dahlia’s. Not yours. Not even my own, most days. Now please move."

His eyes flashed gold. That ant his wolf was pushing at the surface. "You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Coming in here with your dical degree and your holier-than-thou attitude, turning my sister against our mother-"

"I didn’t turn anyone against anyone. Dahlia made her own choices." I moved to step around him. "Just like I’m making mine right now by leaving."

I was almost past him when I felt it. He set his foot out and into my path.

I tried to avoid it, but I was too close, moving too fast. My shoe caught on his foot, and suddenly I was falling.

The world tilted. I reached out, trying to catch myself, but there was nothing to grab. I fell down the stairs.

I landed hard on my right side. I winced in pain as my arm scraped against the stone path. Pain exploded through my forearm.

For a mont, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I could only feel the burning pain spreading from my arm.

I held my injured arm against my chest, trying to breathe through the pain. My muscles seized. My wolf whimpered at the injury.

Above , I heard Declan’s voice. "Oops. Should watch where you’re going."

I looked up through the haze of pain to see him standing at the top of the steps, looking down at

with an expression of smug satisfaction. There wasn’t a trace of remorse. He didn’t even pretend to be concerned.

There was just pure pleasure at seeing

hurt.

Behind him, Helen appeared in the doorway. For a mont, I thought she might show so basic human decency, might ask if I was alright, might scold her son for deliberately tripping soone.

But instead, she smiled.

"How clumsy of you," Helen said. Her tone was filled with false sympathy. "You really should be more careful, Sophia. These stairs can be quite dangerous."

I pushed myself up slowly, ignoring the way my arm scread with pain. My arm was bleeding.

I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing

cry. I wouldn’t let them see how much this hurt - physically or emotionally.

I stood on shaking legs and brushed the dust from my clothes with my good hand.

Declan and Helen stood watching from the doorway, waiting for

to react - to yell, to threaten, to break down.

I did none of those things.

Because I’d learned painfully, over years of this family’s casual cruelty, that arguing with people like them was useless. They would never see themselves as the villains. They would never reflect on their actions or feel genuine remorse.

The longer I stayed here, engaging with them, the more opportunities they’d have to humiliate

further.

So I simply turned and walked toward my car. Each step I took sent waves of pain through my injured arm.

Behind , I heard Helen’s laugh. "Well. She’s learned so dignity at least."

I didn’t look back. I didn’t give them the reaction they wanted.

I got in my car, closed the door, and only then allowed myself to look at my arm.

The scrape was bad. It was deep enough to bleed steadily, wide enough to need proper cleaning and bandaging. Bits of gravel and dirt were in the wound. The skin around it was already starting to swell and bruise.

I’d need to have it treated properly before I could start my shift.

I drove to Moonstone morial with one hand. I kept the other hand carefully against my chest to minimize movent. Every bump in the road sent waves of pain through my arm.

At the hospital, I went straight to the infirmary.

The on-duty doctor took one look at my arm and whistled "That’s a nasty scrape. What happened?"

"I fell," I said simply. "Down so stairs."

It wasn’t technically a lie. I had fallen down stairs. The fact that I’d been deliberately tripped was a detail I chose not to share.

The doctor cleaned the wound carefully, removing the gravel and debris inside. Each touch made

grit my teeth, but I stayed silent and still.

"You’re lucky it’s not deeper," he said, applying antiseptic that burned like fire. "A few centiters to the right and you might have needed stitches. As it is, you need to keep this clean and dry. Change the bandage daily. If you see any signs of infection, co back imdiately."

"I know," I said. "I’m a doctor."

"Right." He smiled "Then you know better than to fall down stairs."

I didn’t respond to that. I just watched as he wrapped my arm in clean white bandages.

"Take it easy on that arm for a few days," he advised. "No heavy lifting, minimal movent if possible."

"I have patients-"

"Who will still be here whether you aggravate this injury or not." His voice was firm. "Take care of yourself, Dr. Sophia. You can’t help anyone else if you’re injured."

I thanked him and left, heading to the locker room to change into my scrubs.

Then I threw myself into work.

I had rounds, consultations, patient charts. I focused on each task, using the work to push away thoughts of the pain in my arm, the humiliation of this morning and every other thing going wrong in my life.

During a brief break between patients, I found myself thinking about Bianca. It had been a few days since we’d talked. I wanted to make sure she was okay.

I pulled out my phone and called her.

"Sophia!" Bianca answered on the second ring. "I was just thinking about you. How are you?"

"I’m alright. I wanted to check on you. Has Marcel been leaving you alone?"

There was a pause that told

everything I needed to know.

"He’s still texting," Bianca admitted. "He’s been calling, showing up at my apartnt building. Yesterday he sent

a digital will, saying he’s leaving

everything because he’s going to kill himself if I don’t take him back."

My blood ran cold. "Bianca, that’s manipulation. He’s trying to guilt you-"

"I know that." Bianca’s voice was tired. "Logically, I know he’s just trying to control . But emotionally... it’s hard not to feel responsible, you know? What if he actually does it?"

"He won’t. n like Marcel don’t actually want to die. They want attention. They want control. This is just another way of trying to get it."

"You’re probably right." Bianca sighed. "But it’s still scary. I’ve been docunting everything - screenshots of texts, recordings of his voicemails. Just in case I need a restraining order."

"Good. Keep doing that." I shifted my injured arm carefully. "And Bianca? I want you to consider staying with

for a while. Just until Marcel calms down and moves on."

"What? No, I couldn’t impose-"

"You wouldn’t be imposing. I’m worried about you living alone with him behaving this way."

"I appreciate that, but I’m actually doing really well," Bianca said. Her voice got a bit brighter. "I started making those food videos I told you about? They’re getting decent views. I’m collaborating with other creators, building a community. It’s fulfilling in a way my relationship with Marcel never was."

I smiled despite my pain. "That’s wonderful. But the offer still stands. If you need a safe place-"

"I’ll call you imdiately," Bianca promised. "Now stop worrying about

and tell

what’s going on with you. You sound stressed."

I hesitated, then decided she deserved to know. "I was tripped this morning by Damien’s brother. I scraped my arm pretty badly."

"What?!" Bianca shrieked. "Are you okay? Did you go to the hospital? Please tell

you’re not working right now-"

"I’m at the hospital. I had it treated and bandaged. It’s not serious," I assured her. "Just painful and annoying."

"Sophia, you need to stop letting these people hurt you-"

"I’m not letting them do anything. I was trying to leave. He deliberately tripped ." I rubbed my forehead tiredly. "But you’re right. I need to minimize my ti around the Stone family. Once this divorce is final-"

"Speaking of which," Bianca interrupted, "are you free tomorrow evening? There’s this event I’m supposed to attend. A networking thing for content creators. I’d love it if you ca with ."

The request surprised . "You want

to co to a work event?"

"Well, partially because I’d love your company. But also..." Bianca hesitated. "Marcel ntioned he might show up. He knows one of the organizers. And I’m worried about dealing with him alone."

Ah. There it was.

"Of course I’ll co," I said imdiately. "Text

the details and I’ll et you there."

"You’re the best. Thank you, Sophia, really."

"That’s what friends are for." I looked at the clock. "I should get back to work. But call

if anything happens with Marcel before tomorrow, okay?"

"I will. And Sophia? Take care of that arm. Don’t be a hero."

We hung up.

I looked down at my bandaged forearm. The white gauze was already showing a small spot of blood. I’d probably aggravated it during rounds.

I felt torn between my own struggles and my friend’s troubles, between taking care of myself and being there for the people who needed .

But maybe that was the story of my life, always stretched too thin, always trying to be everything for everyone while forgetting to be anything for myself.

Tomorrow I’d go to Bianca’s event and make sure she was safe from her manipulative ex. I’d be the friend she needed.

And sohow, in between all of that, I’d keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Keep surviving. Keep enduring.

Because that’s what I did.

Even when I was bleeding.

Even when I was broken.