I needed to stop the bleeding.
I swallowed hard and rushed to my dresser, rummaging through it until I found a handkerchief. I pressed it against the wound, gritting my teeth as I applied pressure.
Please stop. Please stop.
Minutes passed, and finally, finally, the bleeding slowed. I let out a shaky breath and carefully dressed the wound, making sure the bandage was secure.
I turned to the mirror.
The girl staring back at looked... shaken. Pale. There was a desperate edge in her eyes that I barely recognized.
I inhaled deeply, gripping the edge of the dresser. I have to get a grip.
I couldn’t let this secret slip.
If anyone knew about the mark... if anyone realized whose mark it was—Axel’s reputation would be ruined. He would be ruined.
And I couldn’t let that happen.
So, I made a vow.
With my reflection as my witness, I whispered, "I’ll protect it. No matter what even if I have to lay down my life to do so."
I grabbed my scarf and wrapped it around my neck once more, covering the mark like it was my most precious possession.
Then, with a final breath to steady myself, I turned and headed for the bathroom.
It was ti to wash off this miserable day.
.
The warm water ran down my skin, washing away the dirt of the day—the filth, the stench, and the miserable mories that were inflicted by those closest to .
I stood under the steady stream, letting the heat seep into my bones, breathing in the faint scent of lavender soap as I scrubbed away every trace of the disposal site and whatever else had decided to cling to .
By the ti I was done, I felt like an entirely new person. No more trash sll. No more filth. Just , María José, wrapped in the familiar comfort of my towel. I stepped out of the bathroom and into my room, sighing in relief.
Finally.
I padded over to the mirror, tilting my head to check my scarf. The bandage underneath held firm. Well, good. I changed the scarf and tightened the fabric around my neck, making sure no trace of the mark was visible.
It had been a long, exhausting day, and now, with my hair still damp and the soft glow of the bulbs, I was more than ready to collapse into bed.
But as I slipped under the covers, my mind wandered back to the most unexpected part of my evening.
Luis Miguel and his gang.
I smiled to myself. What in the world had gotten into them?
For years, they had been nothing but a collective pain in my existence—mocking , taunting , making my life ten tis harder than it needed to be. But tonight? Tonight, they had acted like I was so long-lost friend they had suddenly decided to adopt.
I shook my head with an amused smile tugging at my lips.
Maybe hell had frozen over. Maybe the universe had decided I deserved a break for once. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to question it.
I buried myself deeper into my blanket, allowing sleep to take quickly. For the first ti in what felt like forever, I didn’t have to fall asleep to the sound of my own anxieties whispering in my head.
Instead, I sank into the kind of sleep that pulled under fast, deep, and dreamless.
The morning light stread through the curtains and shone its rays on the part of my face that wasn’t covered by the blanket.
I yawned, stretching lazily. My body was still sore from the previous day’s events. If it wasn’t for Luis Miguel and his friend’s help, I might have been too tired to even lift a muscle.
For a mont, I lay there, listening.
There was silence in the villa.
No maids knocking on my door. No shouting from Camilla. No orders were being barked through the hallways.
Was it possible? Had I actually woken up to a peaceful morning?
That was new.
Not wanting to test my luck, I climbed out of bed and made my way to the bathroom for a quick morning wash. I wasn’t about to let yesterday’s nightmare repeat itself—I was staying clean.
After freshening up, I wrapped my scarf around my neck again, making sure everything was secure, before slipping into a simple but neat dress.
With my hair combed and my scarf perfectly in place, I was ready to grab breakfast.
Unfortunately, because I was grounded and wolfless, the maids wouldn’t be bringing my food to nor could I eat with the family. Which ant I had to make the trip myself.
I sighed.
It was fine. Totally fine. I’d just go in, grab my plate, and leave before anyone even noticed I was there.
Simple, right?
Wrong.
The mont I stepped into the living room, my heart nearly stopped.
My father was sitting in his usual spot, rigid like a military commander and a cigar in one hand. I didn’t know what was scarier—the deadbeat expression on his face or the way three guards stood at attention beside him.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
What was he doing here at this hour? He was supposed to be in his office, going over whatever business matters occupied his morning.
Panic flooded through , but I quickly pushed it down, keeping my face as neutral as possible. Imagine fear crippling every nerve in your body at the sight of your father.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I straightened my posture and stepped forward.
"Buenos días, Papá," I greeted.
His gaze lifted to but his look was dark and bland. "María José."
I waited, my fingers clutching the edge of my scarf.
Then, in a voice that carried silent authority, he asked, "Did you listen to the conversation in the family eting yesterday?"
Huh? Why was Father asking that? I thought that was supposed to be talks for the privileged and not a wolfless disgrace?
One thing I knew was that he wasn’t just asking for asking sake. This was him making a conversation that’d build up to sothing.. Sothing that wouldn’t be cute for .
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