Camila was already waiting in the living room when I arrived, dressed as if she were about to step onto a red carpet instead of simply welcoming the Alpha family.
She looked stunning, of course—she always did. Her gown was deep red, clinging to her curves in a way that demanded attention. Her blonde hair cascaded in perfect waves and her lips were painted a striking shade of red.
She was radiant. Of course, who wouldn’t be with all those glitters and luxurious accessories?
Her gaze snapped to the mont I stepped into the room and I saw it—the quick flash of sothing in her eyes.
Jealousy.
Just for a mont. Just for a whiff.
One could barely see the jealousy before it morphed into sothing deadlier...
Rage.
"What," she hissed, rising to her feet, "are you wearing?"
I was about to tell her to leave when she stord toward .
Her hand shot out, fingers tangling painfully in my hair as she yanked my head back. She was tugging at the strands so hard, I could feel my hair uprooting.
"Who," she seethed, "told you to wear a new dress?"
Pain shot through my scalp, but I pressed my lips together, refusing to let out a sound.
She shook hard once.
"You were supposed to wear rags," she spat. "You were supposed to look pathetic. And yet..." Her eyes swept over , dark with fury. "You dare try to make yourself look pretty?"
I swallowed, my hands clenching at my sides. "I didn’t..."
Slap.
Her palm t my cheek so fast I barely felt the sting until it blood, hot and humiliating on my entire being.
Camila pressed closer to , her breath warm against my skin.
"You will not outshine . Not today. Not ever." She whispered.
The sting of Camila’s slap still burned on my cheek, but I refused to touch it. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing in pain.
My scalp throbbed from where she had yanked my hair, but I squared my shoulders, trying to send the pain away. I wouldn’t let her see how much she had gotten to .
Before I could respond, the sound of approaching heels reverberated through the hallway and into the living room.
It was Rosa. My heart almost jumped into my mouth. The presence of my eldest sister was now synonymous with that of a monster with seven horns in my eyes.
The mont Camila heard the sound of Rosa coming in, she released , instantly changing her deanor. Gone was the snarling, violent beast. In her place stood a helpless victim whose lips were trembling and eyes wide with crocodile tears.
She almost flung herself toward Rosa, her gown billowing as she collapsed dramatically into our sister’s arms.
"Rosa!" she wailed, clutching at her like a damsel in distress. "You won’t believe what just happened!"
Rosa raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t push her away. "What happened?"
Camila pulled back, eyes glossy with feigned hurt. "María José!" she declared, pointing at as if I had committed a cri. "She dared—dared—to dress up like this. Do you know why? Do you know why, Rosa?"
Rosa sighed. "I’m sure you’re about to tell ."
Camila gritted her teeth. "She did it for the Alpha sons! She wants to seduce them, to steal them for herself!"
I gaped. What?!
Rosa’s lips twitched. "Oh, Camila, calm your nerves," she said, patting our cunning sister’s arm as if soothing a child. "Don’t tell you’re actually worried about María José?"
Camila stepped back, frowning. "I..."
"Look at her," Rosa continued, waving a hand toward lazily. "Yes, she’s beautiful, but that’s all she has." Her eyes swept over with an almost bored expression, like she had already decided I wasn’t worth the effort of true scorn. "You, Camila, are radiant. You are attractive in ways that go beyond the surface. You have power."
Camila straightened, drinking in Rosa’s words like they were gospel.
"Beauty is nothing where power is concerned," Rosa went on. "Power is the real beauty. That is what makes people bow. That is what makes you untouchable."
Camila’s wounded pride seed to heal instantly. Her lips curled into a smirk, and she tossed her golden waves over her shoulder.
"You’re right," she said, her confidence returning with a vengeance. "I have power. I have boldness. I have beauty." She shot a look of triumph. "And you, María José, have only one of those things."
I said nothing.
Because what was there to say? They were right. I had no power.
Before Camila could gloat any further, the sound of authoritative footsteps ca from behind.
Our father.
Don Diego erged from the hallway like a king, dressed impeccably in deep navy and gold. He always had a presence that commanded attention, but today, he looked so grand.
His gaze trailed between us, settling on each of his daughters as if inspecting us for flaws. I kept my head dipped low.
"It’s ti," he said. His voice was deep and calm, but filled with a warning. "We will receive Tomás’s family now."
Silence settled in the room. Even Camila and Rosa’s smugness dimd at the ntion of them.
Tomás’s family. The Alpha’s family. We all knew what that ant.
For , it ant Axel was coming.
To the others, it ant forced smiles, false pleasantries, and enduring the overbearing arrogance of the Montenegros.
Our father straightened his cuffs. "You all know how insufferable Tomás and his kin can be. They act as if they are the pinnacle of power as if they are the greatest among us."
His jaw tightened.
"They are not."
I watched as Rosa and Camila nodded in agreent.
"Rember this," our father continued. "We will be the perfect hosts, but we will not grovel. We will not act beneath them. They may be wealthy, but we are not lesser. We are wealthy and powerful. You are the daughters of the most powerful man in the pack. Do not forget that!"
His gaze flicked toward and his lip curled slightly. I knew what he was thinking.
I was lesser.
And he was praying I wouldn’t embarrass him. I held my breath. I wouldn’t.
I had learned to play my part. All I had to do was keep silent and keep my head low all through the eting and all would be well and good.
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