Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 119: _ Bundle Her Like A Thief

Chapter 119: _ Bundle Her Like A Thief

I Thought twice before answering Don Diego. My mind scrambled for an answer that wouldn’t make him mad.

"Yes, papá," I finally said.

He took a slow drag from his cigar before exhaling. The smoke curled in the air between us, weighing down the silence.

"Camila is getting married in twenty-seven days," he pointed out. "And if things go well, Rosa will follow suit soon after."

I nodded stiffly, not trusting myself to speak.

"To Axel."

The moment he said his name, my heart twisted painfully.

Axel.

Rosa.

Married.

The words hit me like Marisa had hit me with a kitchen spoon, knocking the air right out of my lungs. My entire body locked up, the blood rushing to my ears and creating a deafening roar that drowned out the quiet crackling of the cigar.

No. No, I must have misheard.

I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. Pain was good. Pain kept me from reacting.

Despite all, I forced myself to keep my expression blank.

"He is arrogant," my father continued, his voice filled with disdain. "I don’t like him. But it would be a great honor for two of my daughters to marry into the Alpha’s family."

A great honor.

The words made me sick.

Axel wasn’t some political chess piece to be moved around, and neither was I. Yet here he was, discussing him like an asset to be claimed, like a deal waiting to be finalized.

Every word felt like a dagger to the heart. I clenched my fists at my sides, reprimanding myself not to react.

Axel was mine. My mark proved it.

But no one knew that. No one could know. And even if I wanted to scream the truth at the top of my lungs, I wasn’t even sure what sort of mark it was. I didn’t know what it meant.

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, desperate to keep my expression blank. The sharp sting, the taste of blood—it grounded me. Because I couldn’t afford to show a single ounce of what I was feeling.

Axel would be married to my sister.

Like I wasn’t here, dying inside just to be with him. Like he didn’t encompass my thoughts and mind all day every day.

Axel... What would he think if he heard this? Did he know? Had they already discussed it with him? Would he agree?

Would he fight it?

Or had I been a fool to believe I meant anything to him at all?

Then my father added, almost casually, "Of course, Axel can be taught a lesson later. Until he learns to bow to those above him. Until he learns to fall in line and play by the game. Until he admits and acts accordingly that I, Don Diego De La Vega am the most powerful man of this pack and I don’t have that title for no reason."

My entire body went rigid.

What?

I lifted my gaze to him, my heart pounding so hard in my chest: He was planning something. Something bad.

For Axel.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Axel might be strong, but he wasn’t invincible. And if my father was set on breaking him, then he would find a way.

I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t.

I took a quiet breath, steadying myself.

I would warn him. No matter what it took, I would find a way to get a message to him. Even if it meant risking my own safety.

Because Axel had given me his mark.

And I wasn’t about to stand by while they tried to destroy him.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, keeping my face carefully blank as my father took another slow drag from his cigar.

The scent of burning tobacco thickened in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of the earth seeping in from outside. The morning sun cast golden rays through the windows, but the warmth didn’t reach me.

Don Diego exhaled, watching the smoke curl into lazy patterns. "Do you know why I’m telling you all of this, María José?"

I stayed still, wary of a trap. "No, papá."

His eyes were sharp and assessing and they met mine. "Because I don’t want you using that cursed self of yours and ruining everything."

Of course.

A cold shiver ran through me. The words shouldn’t have stung—I had heard worse from him... but something about the way he said cursed made my stomach twist. Like I was something unholy.

Something diseased.

Maybe I was. After all, everyone who got closer to me ended up getting into messes. The pigs even had to pay with their own lives.

He arched forward slightly, resting an elbow on the carved wooden armrest. "The heavens are finally restoring the honor of this family after you destroyed it."

His voice was so slick and almost pleasant, which made the cruelty in his words even sharper. "And not just restoring it—multiplying it in our favor." He gestured with his cigar. "Camila is marrying well. Rosa might marry even better. Our name will be respected again. But if you—" his gaze hardened "... if you so much as think of ruining this, you will regret ever being born."

A ringing silence followed. My fingers curled around the hem of my dress, pressing into the rough fibers.

Regret ever being born.

I should have been used to this. I should have built a shield so strong that his words bounced off me like raindrops against stone. But every time, it sliced deeper.

Still, I forced myself to nod. "I understand, papá."

He smiled. It wasn’t kind. "Good."

Then, as if he hadn’t just sentenced me to a lifetime of silent suffering, he asked, "And what were you up to just now?"

My tongue felt thick in my mouth. "I was going to carry breakfast."

His eyebrows knitted and I knew before he even spoke that I had made a mistake.

His expression closed up. "Who told you you could eat breakfast?" He put the question on the table before tilting his head. "Have you received your punishment yet?"

The floor seemed to shift beneath me. Finally... the horror begins.

"No, papá," I whispered.

"Then why did you assume you deserved to eat?"

I opened my mouth, then shut it again. I had no answer that wouldn’t worsen my situation.

My father clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if I was the one being ridiculous. Then, with the casual ease of someone ordering a drink, he flicked his fingers toward the two men standing guard by the door.

"Bundle her up like a thief," he said, exhaling another cloud of cigar smoke. "She’s worse than one."

I barely had time to process his words before rough hands grabbed me from behind.

"Wait..." I gasped, but one of them already had an arm locked around my waist, hoisting me up like a sack of potatoes.

The other seized my wrists, binding them behind me with efficiency.

I squirmed. "Papá, please..."

"Ah, don’t start with that," Don Diego said, waving a hand dismissively. "If you didn’t want this, you shouldn’t have acted above your station."

He took another drag of his cigar, completely unconcerned as I was manhandled like a common criminal.

One thing I knew about my father was that in this situation, he would expect me to fight back against the men like a De La Vega should. If I do as much as bury my head in shame, his hatred for me would plummet.

The moon help me as I tried to please a Father who was about to put me through hell and back and think in the most twisted way I had ever seen.