Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 107: _ Rosa’s Wrath

Chapter 107: _ Rosa’s Wrath

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I had made a mistake.

I didn’t even know when I told Rosa that saying Axel belonged to her just because they were close years ago was absurd. It had just... slipped out. Like my subconscious had finally run out of patience and decided, Enough.

And judging from the way Rosa’s entire body went rigid, I might as well have lit a match and tossed it into a barrel of gunpowder.

The hallway went silent. The maids, who had been scurrying about a second ago, suddenly found very urgent things to do in the opposite direction.

Even Camila’s screeching from the other side of the villa seemed to dull as if the whole house itself knew better than to breathe when Rosa was angry.

For a moment, she just stared at me, her emerald-green eyes burning with disbelief. And then, slowly, so slowly, she tilted her head.

"You expect better?" she repeated, dimming her eyes.

I swallowed hard.

She took a step forward, and I had the overwhelming urge to retreat. But I forced myself to stand still, to keep my chin lifted even though my insides had shrunk to the size of a walnut.

"I expect better," I murmured again. Because if I had already signed my death sentence, I might as well get the last word in.

Rosa’s nostrils flared. She blinked, as if her ears had deceived her, as if she couldn’t possibly have heard me say what I just did.

And then—before the blink of an eye—her palm cracked across my face.

The force sent me stumbling to the side as a stinging heat spread across my cheek. My vision was obscured for a second there, and by the time I regained my bearings, Rosa was still over me, breathing hard.

The sophisticated Rosa had morphed into a fit of rage. She was always refined, elegant, and sophisticated. But now? Now, she looked like she wanted to rip me apart with her bare hands.

"You little—" she hissed before shoving me.

I barely had time to brace myself before I hit the floor. The marble was cold against my palms, my already aching cheek burning hotter as humiliation crawled up my skin.

I should have gotten up immediately. Should have glared at her, thrown something, anything—but my body refused to move. Fear had its claws in me now, gripping tight and keeping me frozen in place.

Maybe it was for the better.

And then, of course, fate decided things weren’t humiliating enough.

A maid entered the hallway, carrying a silver tray with a steaming teapot and porcelain cups. She took one look at me sprawled on the floor and hesitated, shifting awkwardly.

Rosa turned in her direction, saw the tray, and suddenly, a wicked smile stretched across her lips.

"Oh, perfect," she mused, stepping toward the maid.

The poor woman barely had time to ask what before Rosa snatched the teapot right off the tray. I didn’t even have time to scream before she poured it all over me.

Scalding heat splashed across my dress, sinking into the fabric and burning my skin.

"Ahhhh!" I screamed as the pain seared in, and I instinctively curled in on myself. It wasn’t boiling hot—but it was hot enough.

Enough to hurt.

Enough to make me want to disappear into the floor.

Rosa took a step back, eyes twinkling with satisfaction. "That suits you better," she sneered. "Since you are already dressed in rags, the tea should add to the allure."

Then, "I’ll be with Papá. Pray he doesn’t skin you alive." she let out and stormed off toward our father’s study.

I sat there for a long moment, the tea cooling against my skin with time. My dress was ruined and my dignity was shattered into a million pieces.

I should have fought back. I should have said something.

But I didn’t.

Because no matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise, I was still that same powerless girl who would spend the rest of her life being stepped on.

The maid, the same one who had walked in with the tea, smirked as she adjusted the now-empty tray in her hands. "Honestly," she sighed, "you bring it on yourself."

And then she left too.

I let out a shaky breath.

The tea had mostly cooled before she poured it, but the humiliation still burned hotter than my skin. My dress was ruined, soaked through, and now transparent against my skin. I felt dirty like I had just been dragged through the mud.

I forced myself to my feet, legs trembling. I needed to go back to my room, change, and do something before I had to face anyone else.

But I didn’t even get a chance to take a step before another maid approached me, looking hesitant as she scanned my appearance.

"Don Diego has summoned you," she said, avoiding my eyes.

Ice rushed through my veins.

Father.

Instantly, my fear doubled... no, tripled.

Why? Why had he called me?

Was it about yesterday? About Axel? Had Rosa already reached him and filled his ears with her version of events?

My feet felt like lead as I followed the maid through the villa, my wet dress chafing against my skin. Every step made my stomach tighten, my breath became shorter.

Oh, this was the part where I missed Juana so badly. I’d do anything to get her back. If only there was someone who could help me convince my father.

By the time I reached his study, my hands were ice-cold.

I hesitated in front of the large wooden doors, forcing myself to take a deep breath before lifting a trembling fist and knocking.

"Enter."

I swallowed hard, pushing the door open.

Rosa was already inside, standing near our father’s desk. She looked pleased with herself, and her arms were crossed in front of her.

Two maids were also in the room, standing stiffly near the bookshelves, heads slightly bowed.

And then there was him.

Don Diego.

He sat behind his massive desk, dressed in his usual expensive suit and oozing an aura of authority so suffocating it felt like the room had shrunk. His dark eyes landed on me the moment I stepped inside.

For a brief, absurd second, I wondered if he noticed the tea stains on my dress.

Then he sneered.

"You look pathetic," he said.

I clenched my fingers together. "Good morning, Father."

His lips curled with disgust. "You think I care for your greetings?" he snapped.

I quickly lowered my gaze.

He leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was an insect he was debating on crushing. "After today, when we’ve received the Alpha’s family, you should brace yourself."

He paused, letting this devilish calm tone settle on me. "A punishment awaits you, and believe me, it will be excruciating."

I shut my eyes to send back the fear shooting through me like it’d help.

I had expected it. Had known it was coming. But hearing it aloud... hearing the certainty in his voice—made my knees weak.

"For now," he continued, waving a hand toward me, "look at yourself."

I stood still, not daring to move.

"Are you stupid?" he snapped. "Do you expect to receive the Alpha’s family looking like that? Like a filthy beggar?"

I swallowed hard.

He turned to the maids. "Take her to her room. Get her dressed properly in the new clothes I had brought for her."

The two maids nodded quickly and moved toward me.

I clenched my jaw, willing my hands to stop shaking.

I should have been relieved. A new dress meant I wouldn’t have to wear this ruined one anymore. It meant Axel wouldn’t see me looking like filth.

It meant not giving that bloody Álvaro the satisfaction of his equally shitty power-hungry family. But somehow, knowing that Father had chosen it for me made my stomach churn.

Still, I knew better than to protest.

As the maids led me out of the study, I cast one last glance at Rosa.

She was smirking.

And I knew—whatever punishment Father had in store for me, she would enjoy every second of it.