Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother -
Chapter 170: _ Abandoned And Broken
Chapter 170: _ Abandoned And Broken
I forced my eyelids to move, but they were as heavy as bricks. My lashes stuck together, crusted over with dried tears and blood. I fought against the exhaustion sinking its claws into me, willing myself back to consciousness. My body screamed in protest. Everything hurt. Everything.
The voices continued, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I needed to wake up. I needed to move.
After what felt like an eternity, my lids cracked open.
Blurry shapes swam in front of me, shifting and distorting under the dim, flashing bulb light. My breath rattled out of my lungs. The air smelled faintly of soap, old fabric, and the zing of blood... my blood.
I blinked rapidly, wishing for my vision to clear.
I saw a low ceiling. A small room. A single dim bulb swinging slightly overhead.
The servants’ quarters.
I was lying on one of their beds, covered in a scratchy, faded blanket that smelled of lavender and starch. My fingers curled into the rough fabric as my mind slowly pieced everything together.
I wasn’t in my room.
I wasn’t in the villa.
I had been thrown out.
Disowned.
My throat tightened, but no tears came. Maybe I had finally run out of them.
Giulia and Letizia hadn’t noticed me yet. They were too busy wringing their hands, looking torn between regret and fear.
"Dios mío," Giulia muttered, rubbing her temples. "I swear, if Don Diego finds out ..."
"I’ll take the blame," Letizia said firmly. "I was the one who dragged her inside."
Giulia shot her a look. "And what if he does find out? What if he decides to make an example out of you? What if he..."
I groaned.
Both women jumped like they’d been struck by lightning.
I wanted to smirk at the way their eyes widened, mouths falling open, but my face hurt too much for that. My entire body protested as I shifted, every muscle screaming in pain. It felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
Or, well... beaten half to death and left for the dead by my loving familia.
Letizia was the first to move, rushing to my side. "Señorita!" Her hands fluttered over me like she wasn’t sure if she should touch me. "Are you...?"
"Alive?" My voice came out raspy. "Unfortunately."
Giulia made a choking noise, half-relieved and half-exasperated. "Dios santo, María José, don’t joke about that."
I let out a humorless laugh. "Why not? It’s the only thing I have left."
Letizia’s face hovered over mine, her brown eyes wide with concern. "You had us worried, niña!"
"We thought..." Guilia swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the blanket tightly. "We thought you might never wake up."
"Well, that would have been convenient for some people." I blinked with one eye because apparently, that was the only thing I could move in my body for now as I wanted.
Letizia sucked in a breath. Guilia’s face darkened.
"Don’t say that," she murmured. "You don’t deserve this."
I almost laughed. Didn’t I?
I tried to push myself up, but my arms tangled instantly.
Letizia caught me before I could hit the bed again. "Slow down. You’re still weak."
"No kidding," I muttered, grimacing at the pain slicing through my ribs.
My face felt tight and swollen. I reached up instinctively, but Guilia caught my wrist before my fingers could brush my skin.
"Don’t," she said softly. "Your wounds are still fresh. We did what we could, but..."
Her eyes flickered with something close to pity.
I knew what she meant. I remembered Don Diego’s hesitation. I remembered how he had looked at me—like he didn’t recognize me anymore.
I turned my head slightly to the side, catching a glimpse of myself in the small, cracked mirror hanging on the wall.
A stranger stared back; a monstrous, battered, and ugly stranger.
My left eye was swollen shut, a deep purple bruise blooming across my cheekbone. A jagged wound stretched across my face, clumsily stitched together. The skin was still raw and angry.
My lips open slightly. So this was what finally broke him. Not my suffering. Not my pain.
Not the years of loyalty, of devotion, of desperately trying to please him.
No.
It was the simple fact that I wasn’t beautiful anymore. Something bubbled up in my chest.
A laugh.
A hollow and humorless laugh that made both women flinch.
"Señorita María José..." Letizia hesitated. "Are you... okay?"
"No," I admitted, still staring at my ruined reflection. "But at least I finally look the way I feel."
Silence descended between us.
Then Guilia exhaled sharply, muttering under her breath as she reached for the bowl of water on the nightstand. "Here. Let’s clean you up a little more."
I let them fuss over me. Because what else could I do? I had nowhere to go. No one to turn to.
And for the first time in my life, I truly, completely belonged to no one.
The silence stretched was suffocating, as Letizia and Giulia continued tending to my wounds and changing the plasters. Their hands were gentle and careful, but nothing they did could soothe the rage crawling under my skin like a living, breathing thing.
I had been disfigured, discarded like rotting fruit, beaten into something unrecognizable—not just physically, but in every way that mattered. The warmth I had clung to all my life had been doused in ice.
But this wasn’t the end of me.
This was my rebirth.
I felt it in my bones, in the deep, marrow-deep fury that no longer burned hot but boiled.
I forced my fingers to move, gripping the rough fabric of the blanket as I whispered, "I swear on my mother’s grave..."
Letizia and Giulia halted, the water dripping from the cloth in Giulia’s hands.
"I swear," I continued even as my voice was still gruff, "that I will get back at them all. One by one, I will make those who made my life miserable wish for death that will never come."
Letizia sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes flickering with unease. "Señorita, don’t say such things. You’re still..."
"Still what?" My lips twisted, cracking against my swollen skin. "Still weak? Still the pitiful girl who thought she could earn love through obedience? Who let them take and take until there was nothing left?"
Giulia’s mouth opened, then closed. She had no words because she knew I was right.
"I was a fool," I said, tilting my head slightly to gaze at my reflection again. The jagged stitches on my face were crude. But I would wear them like armor.
I wouldn’t hide.
Camilla had been jealous of my beauty?
Rosa had hated it to the core? Let her see what she had done to me. Let her live with the knowledge that she had only made me stronger.
Axel had marked me, kissed me, whispered words that made my heart ache—only to spit them back in my face and crawl into my sister’s bed? Fine. Let him enjoy his prize. I would show him what it meant to truly regret.
And my father...
A sharp, bitter laugh escaped my lips.
Don Diego had broken me, thrown me away like I was nothing, all because I no longer fit the image of the daughter he wanted.
Very well.
If he could not love me, he would fear me. They should be prepared for me for I was coming. I no longer had anything to lose.
But them? They had everything in the world to lose and I’d use that against them.
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