Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 146: True or False

Chapter 146: True or False

TERESA’S P.O.V.

My father’s entrance was always calculated, always theatrical, as if he believed his mere presence could silence the world. But today, he was wrong. Today, I wasn’t the timid girl he once controlled. Today, I was a storm waiting to happen.

The moment his polished shoes hit the last step, I stepped forward, fists clenched at my sides. My heart was pounding, but my voice was steady—a sharp contrast to the roaring in my chest.

"Say it again," I demanded, my tone like steel. "Repeat what you told me over the phone. About taking in another man’s children. Were you talking about me and Luke?"

Luke stiffened beside me, his presence a fortress at my side, but I didn’t glance his way. My eyes were locked on my father—on Gregory Williams, the man who had shattered every illusion of family I’d ever had.

He smirked, the corner of his mouth curling with disdain. "Ah, Teresa," he drawled, his voice slick with venom. "Always so dramatic."

"Say it to my face," I snapped, taking another step closer. "I dare you."

Lucian’s hand brushed against mine—a subtle reminder of his presence. His calm steadied me, even as his gaze remained fixed ahead, his head tilted slightly as though listening to the tension in the air.

My father didn’t flinch. "You think you deserve answers, Teresa? You think you’re owed the truth?" His lips curled into a sneer. "Fine," he said, spreading his arms in mock surrender. "If you insist. Yes, I took in another man’s children. Let me tell you a little something about your sainted mother, the woman you’ve both put on a pedestal."

Luke tensed beside me. "Don’t you dare—"

"Let him," I interrupted, my voice cold. "Let him dig his own grave."

My father’s chuckle was dry and humorless. "Oh, you’ve grown a backbone, I see. Good. It’s about time." He straightened, his hands clasped behind his back as if preparing to deliver a lecture. "Your mother wasn’t the woman you think she was. She was a strange woman. I didn’t find her in some idyllic setting or fall for her charm. No. She came out of the woods—literally.

I stared at the man I once called "father" as if he were a stranger, every word dripping from his mouth like venom. The room felt too small, the walls closing in with every syllable. My fingers itched to throw something—anything—at him, but instead, I clenched them into fists, my nails biting into my palms. Beside me, Lucian stood unwavering, his presence commanding, yet a calming force.

Luke, however, was far from calm. He stood next to me, his jaw clenched, fists tightening and loosening as if he were fighting every instinct to lunge at Williams. His voice came low and steady, like the calm before a storm. "You expect us to believe this... this garbage, after all the lies you’ve told us?"

Williams smirked, an infuriatingly smug tilt to his lips. "Believe it or not, Luke, it doesn’t change the truth. Your mother was not who you think she was."

"Stop calling her ’your mother’ like she was some stranger to you," I snapped, my voice trembling with rage. "She was your wife. You loved her."

"Oh, I did love her, Teresa," Williams said, his tone mockingly wistful. "At least, I thought I did—until I realized what she really was. Strange, deceitful, and—let’s not mince words—ungrateful."

Luke let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "Ungrateful? You have the audacity to call her ungrateful when you’re the one who turned her into a ghost in our lives? Do you even hear yourself?"

Williams ignored Luke, turning his sharp, calculating gaze back to me. "She was pregnant when I found her, you know. With you and Luke was only but a baby." He spat the words like they burned his tongue. "I didn’t even know until months after I’d taken her in. She came out of nowhere, looking like she’d crawled out of a gutter, claiming she was being chased by ’bad men.’ I should’ve turned her away, but I didn’t. I took her in. I saved her."

"Saved her?" Luke thundered, his voice rising. "You don’t get to rewrite history, Williams! You didn’t save her; she loved you but you controlled her, isolated her, and broke her spirit!"

My father’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

"Love? She was incapable of it. She was ungrateful, deceitful. I caught her once, with another man in my home."

"That’s a lie!" I shot back, my voice rising.

"Is it?" He arched a brow, his tone maddeningly calm. "She didn’t die of an illness, Teresa. That’s the story I told you because the truth would’ve been too humiliating. She disappeared. Walked out of the hospital and our lives without a trace and never came back."

"Why in God’s name do you keep lying?!" I yelled, my voice shaking. "She didn’t run away. She died. We were at her funeral, or have you forgotten?"

Williams leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with maddening nonchalance. "The funeral," he mused, "was a show. A spectacle to keep up appearances. You didn’t see a body, did you? No, because the coffin was empty."

A stunned silence fell over the room. I exchanged a glance with Luke, his face pale with disbelief.

"You’re lying," I said firmly, my voice a whisper but laced with conviction. "You’re lying because you can’t stand the idea of us having something pure—our memories of her. You want to take even that away from us."

Williams laughed coldly. "Oh, Teresa, you give me far too much credit. I arranged that funeral to save my reputation. Can you imagine the scandal if people found out my wife had run away? A sick woman, no less, leaving her children and husband behind?"

"You’re disgusting," Luke growled, taking a step forward. "If she did leave, maybe it’s because you made her life unbearable. Did you ever think of that?"

Williams’ face darkened, his expression hardening like stone. "She betrayed me, Luke." His voice shook, not with sadness but with anger. "After everything I did for her, she spat in my face. That’s the woman you’re defending. I don’t blame you, her ungrateful blood runs deep in your veins!"

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. "You’re lying," I said again, my voice trembling. "She loved us. She loved you. She wouldn’t have done that."

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Believe what you want, but it doesn’t change the truth. She vanished without a trace. I lied to protect you from the shame, but maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe you need to hear the truth to stop idolizing her."

Luke’s face was a mask of fury. "You think this little story of yours changes anything? It doesn’t. You’ve always been a liar, and this is just another one of your manipulations."

Williams smirked. "I knew you’d say that, which is why I brought proof."

"Proof?" I echoed, my stomach twisting into knots.

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small, weathered box. Placing it on the table, he patted it almost affectionately. "Your dear mother left behind a few things. Letters, photos, keepsakes. I’ve kept them all these years. But if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll destroy every last piece."

Luke lunged forward, his face a storm of rage, but I grabbed his arm, holding him back. "What do you want?" I asked through gritted teeth.

Williams leaned back, his smirk widening. "Lucian knows."

Lucian, who had been silent this entire time, finally spoke. His voice was calm, almost cold, but there was an edge to it that made my skin prickle. "You’re a despicable man, Williams. But you won’t win. Not this time."

"Oh, I’ve already won," Williams said, his tone smug. "The question is how much you’re willing to lose, Teresa. Your mother’s legacy? Or your pride?"

I stared at him, my mind racing, my heart pounding. He wanted me to beg, to grovel, to humiliate myself for his amusement. But I wasn’t the same Teresa who used to cower under his gaze.

Luke’s voice broke through my thoughts, low and dangerous. "You think you can blackmail us with this? You think destroying a few old letters and trinkets will erase her from our hearts? You’re pathetic, Williams. And you’ll die pathetically, surrounded by the lies you’ve built your life on."

Williams’ smirk faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "Careful, Luke. You might want to remember who’s in control here."

"No one’s in control here," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "Not you, not anymore. You don’t own us, and you never will. Keep your box of lies if you want, but it won’t change a thing."

Williams’ expression hardened, and for a moment, I thought he might lash out. But then he smiled—a cruel, twisted smile that sent a chill down my spine. "We’ll see about that, won’t we?"

As we turned to leave, Lucian squeezed my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. His voice, soft and low, reached only me. "You were incredible, Teresa. He can’t touch you. Not while I’m here."

I looked up at him, my heart swelling with a mixture of love and pain. "Thank you," I whispered. "But this fight isn’t over. Not yet."

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