Chapter 120: _ Punished

The two men carried me effortlessly toward the door, my feet kicking uselessly in the air. One of them grunted when I managed to elbow his ribs.

"Relax, princesa," he muttered, tightening his grip. "You’re only making this harder on yourself."

"Oh, I’m so sorry," I snapped, writhing harder. "Let me make this easier for you—should I tie myself up next time?"

He chuckled. "That would save us some effort."

The other man sighed, adjusting his hold. "She’s feisty for someone who’s about to get tossed like an old rag."

I turned my head just enough to glare at him. "I hope the next time you stub your toe, it hurts for weeks."

"Charming," he said dryly.

The sunlight burned my eyes as they dragged me outside, but it was nothing compared to the cold terror sinking into my bones.

My feet scraped against the dry earth, my dress catching on stray twigs and stones as the men hauled me forward like a sack of grain.

I twisted, thrashed, dug my heels into the dirt—anything to slow them down, but their grips were iron, their hands bruising against my arms.

"Let me go!" I shrieked, my voice raw with desperation. "Please!"

One of them grunted when I managed to slam my elbow into his ribs. "Damn it, she’s a wild one."

"She won’t be for long," the other muttered, tightening his hold. "The patrón will see to that."

The courtyard was eerily silent. No one dared to interfere. Not the workers, not the servants, not even the wind.

And then I saw it.

The tree.

Gnarled and ancient. Its bark was dark and cracked, the roots like twisted veins in the earth.

I had seen others tied to it before. Servants. Traitors. Men who owed Don Diego more than they could pay.

Now, it was my turn.

Did I really deserve to be tied to such a tree that was meant for people of that category? Was that what I really was to my own father now?

"No," I gasped, struggling harder. "Please, please—Papá!"

My screams fell on deaf ears.

Don Diego motioned with his hand, and the guards pulled me roughly against the tree, forcing my back against the rough bark. My skin prickled at the sharp ridges, and I barely had time to suck in a breath before thick ropes wrapped around my wrists, my arms pinned above my head.

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.

This was happening.

I turned my head, scanning the faces in the courtyard—servants and guards. They watched in silence, none of them daring to intervene. Some pitied me. Some didn’t care.

None would stop it.

I sobbed, shaking my head violently. "Papá, I didn’t mean to—please, I’ll do anything! Anything!"

My father stepped forward, his shadow stretching long in the dirt. He had that stoic demeanor on and his eyes were dark pools of disappointment.

His cigar was still smoldered between his fingers with wisps of smoke curling into the air as he regarded me like I was nothing more than a nuisance.

"You humiliated me," he said simply. "You lost my money. You disgraced this family. And then, you had him, the Alpha’s son, come to me like some rabid dog, demanding answers. You know how much of a competition is between us and that family. Tell me, María José, did you spread your legs for him, too?"

His words even hurt deeper than any whip could. Did I spread my legs for Axel? How could he think such of me?

Dios mío, if he should ever see the mark... damn. I didn’t want to think of it.

"No!" I choked out, tears spilling down my face. "I swear, Papá, I didn’t..."

"Silence."

The command was like ice down my spine.

He handed his cigar to one of his men and unbuckled his belt. The leather slid free with a slow hiss, the sound sending a wave of pure, paralyzing fear through me.

Oh, no. Not the belt.

I shook my head frantically, the rope burning my wrists as I pulled against it. "No, no, please... Papá, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I swear!"

He studied me for a moment, then sighed. "You always say that."

And then he swung.

CRACK!

The first lash tore across my back like fire, the force of it making my body convulse against the tree. The pain was instant, white-hot, and stealing my breath.

I screamed.

The sound ripped from my throat in raw and unrestrained way that echoed through the courtyard.

CRACK!

Another strike.

My body arched violently, my wrists straining against the ropes. The bark dug into my cheek as I pressed my face against the tree, tears flowing freely.

"Please!" I sobbed. "Papá, stop! It hurts—please, I can’t..."

The belt came down again.

And again.

And again.

Each lash sent fresh agony searing through my skin, the leather biting deep into my flesh mercilessly. My cries grew hoarse and my voice broke with every scream.

The pain was unbearable. Unrelenting. My body jerked and twisted, but there was no escape.

My vision blurred with tears, my legs trembling so violently they could barely hold me up. My sobs were hiccuping, desperate gasps, my chest heaving as I pleaded for mercy that would never come.

The belt struck the same spot on my lower back, and I screamed so loudly my throat burned. My knees buckled.

"Hold her up," Don Diego ordered.

One of the guards grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to look at my father through the haze of pain and tears.

"You shame me," he murmured. "You disgrace your mother’s memory. Tell me, María José, do you even regret it?"

Mother’s memory... did I really disgrace it? Oh, mamá—I’m sorry.

"Yes!" I gasped, my entire body shaking. "I regret it, I do—I’m sorry, Papá, please!"

He exhaled slowly, contemplating. Then, as if bored by my pleas, he gave a small nod.

The next lash struck my ribs.

I screamed so hard my vision darkened, spots dancing in the edges of my sight.

The belt came down again, and my knees finally gave out.

The only thing holding me up was the rope around my wrists, my weight dangling as my body convulsed with sobs.

You know when the pain has drained out every energy in you and you weren’t sure if you were still alive or dead or in between?

That was exactly my state right now.

Blood soaked through the thin fabric of my dress, sticky and warm against my skin.

I was drowning in the pain.

I didn’t deserve this.

I had done nothing wrong.

Axel.

His name was a whisper in my mind. It was a desperate thought clinging to the edges of my pain. Would he come? Did he know?

He can’t save you, a bitter voice in my head reminded me.

This was my punishment. Mine to endure.

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