Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 278: _ The Showdown Begins

Chapter 278: _ The Showdown Begins

My heart was thundering, but my face stayed as calm as stone. I couldn’t show how badly my palms itched to hold María José’s again, how much I wanted to wipe the fire from Rosa’s smug expression and replace it with fear. Not just any fear. The kind of fear only truth could bring.

Then came the moment we’d both expected.

The Alpha stood... My father.

The room stiffened like a spine under pressure. His black suit glistened like oil under the chandeliers. His gray eyes swept the hall like a war general surveying a battlefield. People sat straighter, some with heads bowed. Others, like me, met his stare and gave nothing back.

He didn’t just carry authority in his aura.

He wore it like cologne. It was intense, suffocating, and designed to make everyone feel small.

"Enough," he bellowed, voice like thunder before a lightning strike. "This little show of yours has gone far enough, María José."

His tone felt like a slap, but she didn’t flinch. I wished I could go over to her, hold her hands, and tell her not to let herself be intimidated.

However, from her stance, I could tell she had stayed up all night rehearsing this moment and had expected more than intimidation.

María, mi Amor, she came prepared. I couldn’t be more proud.

He took two slow steps toward her, like a lion circling prey. "You accuse a Luna-to-be of lying... of witchcraft... of infidelity." His eyes narrowed. "Do you have proof to support these claims, or do you simply enjoy dancing on the edge of your own grave?"

Gasps skittered across the room like leaves in the wind.

"Provide evidence," he continued, "or I will see your head removed before sunset."

There it was. The evil man that had always hidden beneath his politeness, finally out in the open. The one who murdered the whole of Luis’s family and the one threatening my girlfriend before even properly hearing her side of the story.

Why? Because she was an Omega. And in this pack, any words of the Omega was akin to a novel with lies scribbled in the pages.

I stepped forward before she could. "No."

The word rang out like a challenge.

"No?" my father asked, eyes narrowing with venom. "No?"

"She has proof. And you know it. And I will not stand here while you decide her punishment before you even hear what she has to say."

His eyes flared, but I didn’t back down. My pulse was molten steel now.

"She’s not just shouting empty words," I affirmed, voice rising with the force of my conviction. "María José has evidence. A journal. A damn detailed one. And if you all stop posturing for a minute, you’ll be shocked by what you find inside it."

In my own way, I needed to stand up for her as well. I couldn’t totally go all out to avoid her being accused of having an affair with her sister’s fiance.

None of them would ever understand that I and Rosa were never a thing. And the one who fucked her – that was a demon and not me.

Oh, how tainted she was. Imagine being fucked by a demon. I couldn’t be more disgusted by her.

Rosa’s veil twitched as she turned toward me, her voice all sugary. "Axel, darling," she cooed, "you’re being manipulated. You know I love you. I’m carrying your baby, remember?"

Oh, fuck this Adonis.

I gave her a look colder than the Arctic. "And yet, somehow, my heart isn’t moved."

Boom. Let that simmer.

María José stepped forward and offered the journal, and I took it from her gently, our fingers brushing for half a second. She didn’t need to say a word. Her eyes said everything— we’ve got this, Axel.

I should be the one saying that to her. I should be the one being in the position akin to that of a pillar behind her, but if she wanted to take the lead now, I’d give her her moment.

These were the moments that’d mark our future. I want to proudly tell our kids about how their mother stood in a gathering filled with powerful and influential people from all over the world, exposed the evil doers and saved our love.

Oh, this love of ours. This enduring love that we share...

I turned to the room and raised the leather-bound book like it was the holy grail.

"This," I said, "contains Rosa’s thoughts. Her lies. Her plans. Her obsession. She never loved me. She just wanted to win."

I walked to my father and extended the journal. "Read it."

He stared at me like I’d just offered him poison.

"I’m not interested in childish gibberish," came the bark.

"I wasn’t asking," I replied.

We locked eyes, but this time, I didn’t blink. After a moment, he took the book with fingers like claws.

He flipped through the first few pages like they were beneath him. But slowly... his demeanor began to change as he read on. His eyes stopped moving. His breathing changed.

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

Rosa shifted on the dais, visibly unnerved. Her hands clenched at her sides.

"That journal isn’t mine!" she suddenly blurted. "She forged it! She’s always been jealous of me!"

My father didn’t respond. He just kept reading.

Don Diego rushed forward, probably worried about whatever reputation he hadn’t already pissed away. "Give me that," he snapped, snatching the journal from my father’s hands like it might disappear.

The way his eyes bulged after the first ten pages told me everything I needed to know. He turned to Rosa, his expression pained with betrayal. Then—crack!

The slap echoed through the hall like a gunshot. It was probably the first time he’d hit her like that. She had always been the strong one. Always been the well behaved one and an exemplary daughter.

Exemplary in the sense that she had the sense that she could chest all of his evil deeds. In the sense that he could give her gruesome assignments and trust her to deliver.

He knew she was devious. Maybe Just not to the extent that she could kill her own mother – his wife. Not that.

None of the powerful men here could boast of virtue. They were all murderers, exploiters and villains in their own way. However, it is the one who is caught red-handed who is truly the bad guy. In this case, Rosa was.

Now, watch these men who were no better judge her.

Guests gasped.

Rosa’s head jerked sideways, cheek flaming red beneath her veil.

She had begun to shed crocodile tears. "I don’t even know that journal! It’s not mine! María José set me up—"

Don Diego’s voice cut through her whining like a butcher’s blade. "Is that your handwriting or not?"

She flinched. "No—no, it’s forged..."

"Don’t lie to me!" he bellowed. "Do you think I wouldn’t know your handwriting? I read your bloody school essays for twelve years!"

Cue Álvaro—stroding like the bastard he was, as smug as a cat with a canary in its mouth. He yanked the journal from Don Diego’s hands and flipped it open with a whistle.

"Oh-ho," he muttered. "This is juicy. I always knew you were twisted, Rosa, but this? Killing your mamá? Keeping a secret lover in the woods like some fairytale witch? I underestimated you. And I usually don’t."

"Are you all deaf?!" Rosa shrieked. "She made that up! María José wrote every word!"

Oh, the nerve she had. Even until the end, she was trying to blame it all on the "weakling." Make her take the fall, isn’t it?

The craziest part was that this pack had different and multiple versions of Rosa. Well, I’d have a fun job fishing them all out once I become the Alpha.

One would expect María José to lose her marbles with all the false accusations Rosa was throwing her way. However, my girl was as composed as a summer breeze. She only tilted her head.

"If I wrote it, then tell me—how did the cottage near the border come to be? With green curtains. And the warded mirror. And the victims’ fingers stuffed in a box that you tucked under the floorboard."

Rosa froze like someone had sucked the air right out of her. Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

Boom.

The final nail.

Don Diego turned to her again, his eyes wild with rage. "Is it true?" he asked. "Did you... did you kill your mother? You were an Omega? You didn’t have a wolf? You stole her wolf?! You have a god-forsaken witch boyfriend? How many more rules have you broken?"

"She’s lying!"

He stepped toward her.

"If you did—if a word of this is true... I will kill you myself."

Gasps burst through the crowd like dominoes. Someone screamed. It was Camilla.

"No!" she cried. "Rosa would never—she wouldn’t hurt mamá.." She snatched the journal from Álvaro’s hands and began reading frantically, flipping page after page, her lips moving silently.

Then she swayed. Her eyes rolled back and she fainted.

Annoying or not, no daughter would not forever be haunted by the memory of the reality where her sister murdered her own mother:

Rosa looked around in a panic, like the walls were closing in. "You’re all crazy! It’s a setup! María José planned all this because she wants Axel!"

"Enough," I growled.

But Don Diego stepped in, facing María José now with the same fire he’d used on Rosa.

"And if this is a lie?" he demanded. "If this was some elaborate plan to shame your sister and steal her fiancé—if you faked all this, then I will kill you myself."

The room turned deathly quiet. Even Hugo stopped pacing in my chest. But María José didn’t tremble. She didn’t blink.

She said, "Then read every word, follow me into the woods to see for yourself and kill me if I’m lying."

And somehow, in that moment—standing there with her spine straighter than ever before—she didn’t look like a girl who needed saving.

She looked like the one who would save us all.

But why was my heart racing? Why do I feel like that bloody demon couldn’t be trusted?

What if—what if he doesn’t show up and that cottage couldn’t be found? Holy hell, María José’s life depends solely on that.

Why did it feel like I was a man about to lose it all?