Villainess Marked For Her Alpha Chapter 100: Why They Hate Me So Much?

I nestled comfy on Hellen’s lap in the sunlit living room, my milky white legs draped limp over her powerful thighs, head resting soft against her chest—feeling the steady thump of her heart through her shirt, honey-citrus scent wrapping like a warm blanket.

Her chin perched gentle atop my raven ponytail, blonde strands tickling my forehead as I fiddled with my phone, green capri pants riding up slight on my calves.

Ivory lounged beside us on the sectional, newspaper rustling in her manicured hands, as she sunk deep into cushions; Reyes sat across scribbling notes in a leather journal, baseball cap low, gloved fingers flying focused.

"What are you doing, princess?" Hellen murmured curious, breath stirring my hair.

"Playing Snakes and Ladders," I replied absent, screen glowing bright—green snake coiled nacing at square 67, ladder climbing golden from 14 to 45. My token—a cute cat emoji—hopped ladders triumphant: 1-21, dice rolling 6s lucky, laughter bubbling as I dodged snakes coiling down from 99, only to plumt wild from 87 to 24 with a groan.

"Ha—escaped that one!" Another ladder soared to 72, finger swiping frantic, but a snake bit at 95, tumbling back giggling. "Nooo, close to winning!"

Satisfied, I closed the ga with a final ladder cheer, setting the phone on the glass table—screen fading black beside a coaster. Silence fell heavy then.

Suddenly, a thought entered my mind.

"Does everyone know I’m an oga now?" I asked quiet, erald eyes flicking up hesitant.

Everyone stilled instant—Ivory’s newspaper crinkling paused mid-fold, Reyes’ pen halting mid-stroke, Hellen’s chin lifting slow. Their gazes locked on heavy—gray eyes widening under cap, brown narrowing concerned, ice-blue softening pained.

"What happened? Why the faces?" I pressed, shifting on Hellen’s lap, my body pressing closer instinctively.

"Emily, just ignore the noise—focus on getting better, physio, strength," Ivory advised gently, folding her paper precise.

"Yes, think healing—your legs, your health first," Reyes added gruff, journal snapping shut.

"I have the right to know!" I yelled sudden, voice cracking sharp, fists balling on my lap. "I know you’re protecting , but I need to know, okay? No more secrets!"

"Emily..."

"Please, I deserve to know..."

Hellen sighed deep, strong hand rubbing my head soothing—fingers massaging my scalp tender, ponytail loosening strands. "Emily, you’re too stubborn for your own good—dense little kitten."

"Don’t divert the topic! Tell —now," I demanded, erald glare fierce despite tears pricking.

"On that party night, your collapse went viral—oga scent blooming wild, doctors confirming suppressants. Public’s mixed—shock, support, so hate. Helly Paws stocks dipped wild but stabilized—sales steady as ever." Hellen paused, jaw ticking. "Your father launched a knockoff pet clothing line too—cheap replicas of your designs with high cost."

"What?!" I gasped, heart sinking cold. How could he? To his own daughter?

"He publicly condemned you— ’hiding gender, deceiving fans’—boosted his sales short-term, but nowhere near ours. Tacky copies, no soul." Reyes growled low, gloved fists clenching.

"He did... that...?" I whispered broken, tears welling hot—spilling silent down milky cheeks. I know he hated , but this? I’m not competing—why stab like this? I am just living my own life.

Ivory leaned in swift and steady, her broad thumb wiping my tears with callused-gentle care—rough pad tracing milky cheeks warm, chili pheromones blooming soothing like spiced comfort. "Don’t cry, Emily. That man’s a certified bastard—lower than dirt, not worth a single drop."

"I’m his daughter, aren’t I? Why treat like an enemy—condemn publicly?" I sobbed harder, delicate hands trembling in my lap, nails digging crescents into palms as raven ponytail swayed with each hitch.

"Emily..." Hellen murmured pained low, her strong arms tightening secure around my plush fra—honey-citrus scent thickening protective, chin resting atop my head again like a shield.

"I didn’t do anything bad to him! Why hate so much—poison for years, copy my designs, drag my na after everything?" Tears flowed free and unchecked now, soaking Hellen’s shirt collar dark, my body quaking violent in her lap—shoulders shuddering, chest heaving under the loose white shirt.

"Emily, I promise he’ll pay for this—all of it," Reyes growled from across the table, gray eyes flashing steel under her cap, gloved fists clenched white on her journal.

"Did my parents... really poison ? With those suppressants?" I whispered fractured, erald eyes wide and pleading, wiping nose with a shaky sleeve.

"Yes," Ivory confird grim, brown eyes hardening. "Small dosages slipped into food, drinks—Karimoike and blockers, building slow since childhood to cage your oga side completely."

"But why...? Do they hate ... because I’m an oga? Born wrong?" My voice cracked high, fresh sobs wracking . I don’t understand the reason.

"No, I don’t think that’s it," Hellen soothed, fingers combing my raven waves rhythmic. "Being an oga is a gift for you, Emily."

"So, why then? Tell !" I begged, clutching Hellen’s shirt desperate.

"Emily, ogas like you—beautiful, rare-scented, from elite blood—are gold for business alliances, marriages sealing empires," Ivory explained asured, voice low. "But they weren’t using you that way. They had Alexei, the ’proper’ heir. Their motive’s sothing different—darker, personal. Control. Resentnt. We’ll uncover it, but not today."

Reyes nodded sharp, gray eyes burning fierce under her cap. "Whoever did this will rot. You focus on you—walking free soon, strong as ever."

"Co on, princess—no more tears for those scums," Hellen coaxed soft, her strong fingers tilting my chin up gentle, ice-blue eyes locking mine with unwavering warmth. "You’re safe here, with us. We’ve got your back—always."

Ivory squeezed my hand firm, chili scent blooming reassuring. "Hey, Emily—breathe. Your father’s a fool, but you’re brilliant. Helly Paws thrives because of you. Let us carry this weight now."

"You’re not alone in this ss," Reyes added gruff but tender, gloved hand rubbing my back slow circles.

But I couldn’t speak—words choked by sobs heaving my plush fra, tears soaking Hellen’s shirt endless as family betrayal crushed fresh. Their coaxing blurred to white noise, erald eyes fluttering heavy; exhaustion claid slow, crying myself into fitful sleep cradled in her lap.