Fated and Claimed by Four Alphas
Chapter 73: The Birthday Spectacle

Chapter 73: The Birthday Spectacle

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Chapter 73

~Spring’s POV~

Kaius and I descended the stairs together, arm in arm, and stepped into the transformed living room.

"It’s beautiful."

"But not as you," Kaius complimented.

"You’re getting cheesy now, Kaius," I teased.

The soft sound of jazz music floated down from the speakers in the corners of the living room, the elegant notes barely masking the murmur of voices and laughter echoing off the walls.

The space had been cleared out just enough to allow for dancing, mingling, and showing off—mostly showing off.

The scent of vanilla candles and champagne filled the air and if I tilted my head just right, I could still catch the faint trace of my mother’s favorite perfume on the curtains.

Soft lights danced along the ceiling, the furniture pushed back to open the space into a party floor.

I could feel eyes on me.

Someone near us whispered, "Isn’t it Rose’s birthday?"

Another girl in a pink dress said, "Then why does Spring look like the one everyone came for?"

I tried not to smile but failed.

"Ignore them," Kaius whispered in my ear before straightening.

I did and we waked further into the room. I tugged gently at my gown, straightening the sleeves. Kaius walked beside me in his sharp black tux.

His gaze swept the crowd with indifference, but the moment our father spotted us, everything shifted.

We were just a few steps in when Dad called out from across the room. "Kaius," Dad called with a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

He walked up to us, briefly acknowledged me before adding, "Come. There’s someone I want you to meet. Mr. Hollard. He’s the sponsor I mentioned."

Kaius gave my hand a quick squeeze. "You’ll be alright?"

I nodded.

"I’ll soon be back and get Eryx to accompany you meanwhile."

He walked off, and just like that, I was alone.

I could feel eyes. Everywhere. Whispered murmurs followed as I tried not to look too bothered. The compliments, though hushed, were loud enough.

"Is that Spring?"

"She looks better than the celebrant..."

"That dress... It’s gorgeous. She should’ve worn that for her birthday."

"She looks like the birthday girl, not Rose."

I smiled tightly and pressed forward. My heels clicked against the tiles as I headed toward the dessert/buffet table, eyeing the cakes and fruit displays.

A few more seconds alone. That was all I needed. Just to get a slice of cake or maybe a glass of juice. Something to refuel and reset.

But peace is a luxury I was never meant to have.

I barely reached for a plate just as I felt a shift around me—like a sudden drop in temperature.

I turned and noticed five people moved into position, surrounding me like a well-rehearsed trap. Three girls, two boys. All of them looked familiar—Rose’s ever-faithful posse.

And at their center, like a thorned crown on a wilted head, stood Rose.

Her smirk was sharp, cruel. "You really thought you could just walk in here and steal the show, didn’t you?"

I blinked slowly. "What are you talking about?"

"My dress You played smart and stole it from me at the mall yesterday, gaining Mum’s favour."

I scoffed. "Is that what your little cramped-up brain could bear to think? Oh heavens, Rose. At least I am smart, but I can’t say the same for you, sweet sis."

"Oh, how convenient." Her voice dripped venom.

"Yes, it was convenient that you lacked the fashion sense to pick your own gown but became so selfish and discontented that you eagerly went for the one I chose."

I leaned forward a little and added, "Not my fault you fell for the trap, sis."

The others chimed in, their voices overlapping in waves of mockery.

"Trying to upstage the birthday girl?"

"She must’ve thought this was her moment."

"Sad little orphan trying to fit in..."

I barely spared her minions a glance and tried to walk away, ignoring the tightness rising in my chest, but just as I reached for a cupcake, a sudden splash!—cold liquid stung my face and soaked into my gown.

The smell, the taste, the alcohol... it was a glass of wine. The red soaked through the soft fabric, staining it like blood.

Immediately, laughter erupted amongst them at my predicament.

"Oh no! Did you spill your drink, Clarice?"

"She needed a bath anyway," Clarice snickered.

I turned slowly, eyes burning but not from tears. I was trying—trying to rise above it. Until Rita stepped forward and yanked my hair back with enough force to snap my neck.

"You think you’re better than us now?" she hissed into my ear.

Pain exploded at my scalp, but I didn’t cry out.

I straightened slowly, and just as I lifted my hand to remove hers, she let go and ripped the sleeve of my gown, tearing the fabric down the side.

I could’ve turned away. Pretended none of this touched me. But something inside me snapped hard, and that was it.

I turned swiftly. I didn’t just swing. I unleashed all the humiliation, the buried pain, and the silent tears. My fist connected with her face, followed by a sickening crack, and the shock on Rita’s face was worth every second I’d held back.

Blood gushed instantly from her nose as she stumbled backward with a shriek.

One of the guys lunged at me, but I ducked, swiveled, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed his head into the side table. A vase crashed to the ground.

Gasps rang out.

I spun, eyes landing on Rose, who had begun to back away. But I was already reaching for her.

SLAP!

My palm collided with her cheek, snapping her head sideways before I shoved her with both hands.

Her heels slipped, and she crashed straight into a passing waiter, sending both food and drinks flying.

She landed on the floor with a piercing scream, soaked in punch, sparkling water, and what looked like a whole tray of mini-tarts.

"Happy birthday, Rose," I said flatly, towering over her.

The other two flinched. I grabbed two untouched drinks and flung them in their faces before turning my back, ready to walk away.

The room froze and everyone turned. Phones were already out, and cameras clicked. That’s when my mother appeared.

Her heels clicked like thunder as she stormed across the floor. Her eyes landed on Rose’s ruined dress and wine-drenched hair, then snapped to me—standing tall, breathless, tattered.

Before I could explain, her hand flew.

SLAP!

My face snapped to the side, stinging red-hot.

"How dare you?" she hissed, shoving me. "You’ve humiliated us in front of all these people!"

"Mother..."

"Don’t call me that!" she snapped in anger.

My vision blurred for a second, not from pain, but from the gut-punch of betrayal.

"Is that what you keep doing? And then you act like you never maltreated me, but I see time and time again, it is always Rose."

"You..." She lifted her hand once more to hit me when suddenly, two arms blocked me.

Kaius and Rhys. One on each side.

They caught her second hand mid-air.

"Not on our watch," they said in unison, their voices like a lion’s roar.

Silence enveloped the living room thicker than before.

Their shoulders tensed protectively in front of me as I held my cheek. My mother’s face flushed crimson, partly from rage, partly from being stopped.

From behind us, someone whispered, "Are they recording this?" And another murmured, "Oh, it’s going viral for sure..."

Kaius didn’t flinch.

Rhys leaned forward and enunciated in a rather calm but firm tone. "Touch her again, and I swear, title or not, you’ll be the one everyone remembers in a scandal for all the wrong reasons, Mother."

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