The butchery was chaos.
Don Diego’s n were all fists and rage, the workers were all fear and flailing limbs, and the butcher... well, he was still on his knees, quivering so violently he looked like a chicken that had lost its head but hadn’t realized it yet.
And then ca my father’s final decree.
"Take him," he ordered in a voice that was as cold as steel.
The butcher whimpered. Actually whimpered, like a kicked dog. His arms flailed uselessly as two n grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him to his feet.
"Señor De la Vega, I... por favor..."
His words dissolved into a pitiful sob as my father simply turned his back on him, already finished with whatever half-hearted pleas the man could offer. It didn’t matter. Nothing could stop what was coming.
I knew what was coming.
And yet, when they began to drag him toward the exit, sothing in clenched.
This wasn’t rcy. This was just a delay.
The butcher fought, thrashing like a fish yanked from water. His cries rang through the butchery as he was carried out, echoing across the bloody tiles. Behind him, his workers scattered like cockroaches, desperate to disappear before my father’s attention turned back to them.
I didn’t move.
Did I even rember to breathe?
There was nothing I could do.
Moreover, I was next.
I could feel eyes on ; watching, waiting, probably wondering if I was going to say sothing. Maybe hoping I would.
But what good would that do?
I stayed where I was, hands clutched so tightly together that my knuckles ached. I kept my head down, watching my father’s polished shoes pivot sharply before he strode toward the door without sparing a glance.
"Vámonos."
The order was sharp, quick, and absolute. It was the type that was ant solely to be followed.
I followed.
I always followed.
.
The ride ho was suffocating.
The butcher’s pathetic sobs filled the car like an annoying background hum and every ti he hiccupped out another desperate "Señor, por favor, I have a family!", my father’s fingers twitched like he was resisting the urge to end him right then and there.
I sank deeper into my seat, staring out the window, watching the city blur past as the car drove.
The air was filled with the scent of blood and raw at, clinging to my clothes, my skin, and my hair. I felt disgusting. I needed to shower. No—I needed to scrub my soul clean.
The butcher let out another silly sob.
My father exhaled pinching the bridge of his nose as his patience stretched thinner with every second spent in tolerating the butcher’s pathetic wails.
I swallowed hard, choosing my words carefully.
"Papá... maybe you should..."
"Cállate."
...Alright then.
I clamped my mouth shut.
The butcher wasn’t so wise. He kept pleading, voice cracking and his desperation making him stupid.
"Please, señor! I swear, I swear I—"
The sharp slap of leather against skin rang through the car before silence ca.
I blinked.
My father didn’t even look at him as he lowered his hand, the back of his palm still slightly red from where it had smacked against the butcher’s face.
"Say another word," he warned nacingly, "and I will have my n pull over right now."
The butcher swallowed whatever sob was next.
The rest of the ride passed in heavy quietness.
.
.
The mont we arrived ho, my father finally turned to .
His dark eyes swept over , filled with quiet disapproval and regret... Perhaps, that of having as a daughter.
I braced myself for the hell that surely awaited .
"Go to your room," he said flatly. "And do not co out until I tell you to."
I stiffened. He wasn’t punishing tonight? After Axel had humiliated him and my working in the butchery?
"But—"
"But nothing."
His voice dropped lower, dangerously at that.
"You have humiliated enough for one day, María José."
I clenched my jaw.
Of course. It was about his humiliation. Not what had happened to . Not what I had suffered. Just his reputation, his na, his pride.
The butcher gets dragged off to so unknown fate, and I get locked away for embarrassing him.
Because I was an inconvenience.
Because I was an Oga.
My throat burned, but I swallowed it down. "I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Papá."
My voice ca out quiet. It would have been great if I received my punishnt now. However, Father had adjourned it.
This ant I’d spend the rest of the ti before then in desperation and anxiety. That... would definitely hurt even more than the punishnt.
Father wanted this to be as excruciating for as possible, I guess. I glanced up at him, letting the innocent inner child in who had always yearned for him strain her neck out and reflect in my eyes.
Father saw it and I saw his lips pressed together.
And then I ran.
I ran inside the house, up the grand staircase, through the hall, past the portraits of proud De la Vegas who had never known an ounce of sha, and into my room—where I slamd the door shut behind .
My chest was tight. My breathing uneven. My skin crawled.
I needed to get out of these clothes.
I ripped them off, shoving the soiled fabric into the hamper, yanking open the bathroom door, and stepping into the shower.
Co hot water. Co Steam. Co the scent of lavender soap.
I scrubbed until my skin was raw. Until my nails ached. Until the butcher’s touch, the stench of at, and the weight of my father’s disappointnt felt like they could finally be washed away.
They couldn’t.
But I tried anyway.
.
When I erged, dressed in fresh clothes, hair still damp, I collapsed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.
The day replayed in my mind.
The butcher’s hands.
Axel’s scoldings.
The way my father’s slap echoed through the butchery.
The way my voice had been so small. My stomach twisted. I curled into myself, hands fisting my robe.
I hated this. I hated everything.
I shouldn’t have apologized. I should’ve scread at him. I should’ve fought.
...Would it have even mattered?
Tears burned at the edges of my eyes. I tried to hold them back.
I failed. They slipped down my cheeks.
I pressed my face into my knee. Sleep eventually found .
****
Nothing could have ever prepared for the turn of events tonight. I had been sleeping... been having a mild nightmare of Father chasing with a stick in his boxers.
At first, I felt the warm touch, how heavenly it felt. In my dream, I saw the Angel. He ca at Father with a rod.
He gave Don Diego a reality check. "Why accuse María José of humiliating you when it is you who is running around in his boxers?"
My heart had never beat for anyone as it did for this guardian Angel that mont. It didn’t end there... he kissed .
Softly.
I loved it.
And then, I opened my eyes, and there he was... journeyed all the way from the lands of my dream into reality.
Axel stood right above . He jerked away, guilt written all over his face. Yes, I was surprised to see him in my room so late at night, kissing at that.
It was supposed to feel creepy. But it didn’t. All I knew was that my guardian angel was right in front of .
So, I jumped on him and kissed him back.
.
.
I woke up to the sound of war.
At least, that’s what it sounded like.
Doors slamd. Footsteps reverberated across the floors. Soone—most likely Camila... was shrieking at the top of her lungs, and judging by the sharp crash that followed, sothing expensive had just been sacrificed to her rage.
For a brief blissful mont, I buried myself deeper into my blankets, willing the noise to disappear. Maybe if I pretended to still be asleep, the universe would be rciful and erase whatever crisis was unfolding beyond my door.
Then I rembered.
The Alpha’s family was coming today.
My body jolted upright like I’d been electrocuted. My heart beat faster than a cheetah. Shit.
Camila’s voice rang through the villa again, high and pitchy. "María José, levántate! I swear if you’re still asleep..."
What the hell was her business with if I was asleep or not? Fucking bitch.
However, when I rembered Father, I scrambled out of bed so fast my feet tangled in the sheets, and I nearly ate the floor. I caught myself against the nightstand, knocking over a lamp in the process. It landed with a thud, but I didn’t stop to check if it had survived.
I needed to shower. I needed to change. I needed to...
My fingers brushed against my neck, and I froze.
A sharp, pulsing ache spread through my skin in a deep and unsettling way, as if sothing had been etched into my very flesh.
My breathing ceased. My hands flew to my throat, searching, feeling...
And then I found it.
A bite mark.
I stared at the faint indentation of teeth on my skin, still tender to the touch. The realization hit like a brick to the face.
Axel had bitten last night.
{A\N}
Hi friends,
So sorry there’s only a Chapter today. :( I’m currently down with the cold and have not been feeling too well. I will resu my usual 2 Chapters daily as soon as I feel better. Our February Golden Ticket Challenge seems to be shaping up.
Thank you so much for reading and for your support so far.
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