Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 69: _ Punishing The Erring Boys

Chapter 69: _ Punishing The Erring Boys

The boys fidgeted at my words. Luis Miguel coughed. "Uh... so, señor... about the money that went missing—"

The vendor’s face wrinkled without even waiting for them to finish. He understood the message immediately.

"YOU LITTLE RAT BASTARDS!"

The man grabbed a wooden crate and swung it like he was aiming for a home run. Luis Miguel barely dodged it, but the second boy wasn’t so lucky—it hit him square in the side, sending him sprawling.

The market burst into laughter. Vendors abandoned their stalls to watch. Some cheered. Others threw things.

"¡Ladrónes!" an old woman shrieked, smacking one of them with a rolled-up newspaper.

"Serves you right, you little snakes!" a butcher cackled.

Even a kid selling flowers took the opportunity to throw a rose at Luis Miguel’s head.

The boys tried to run. I did not let them.

I grabbed Luis Miguel’s collar and yanked him back. "Oh no, we’re not done."

"Beta, please—"

"Nope." I pointed to the ground. "Knees."

They shuddered, still on their feet. The vendor raised his crate again. They dropped to the floor immediately.

"Now," I continued. "Apologize."

"Mierda..." Luis Miguel muttered under his breath, but when I raised a brow, he quickly blurted out, "Señor, we’re sorry! We shouldn’t have stolen from you!"

The others echoed their apologies, some sniffling dramatically.

The vendor snorted. "You’re only sorry because you got caught."

I nodded. "Which is why they need to make it up to you."

Luis Miguel looked up, hopeful. "You mean, like, pay him back? I can do so!"

"Of course, you’ll pay me back!" The vendor thundered, throwing his hands heavily in the air.

The market had nearly turned into a chaotic spot. People who came to buy and sell would all stop, taking their time to watch the free entertainment.

And in the middle of it, I saw the tomato vendor. The one whom María José had bumped into. He was the one who had dragged her across the market for a crime she didn’t commit.

This... this was the real justice.

"Please, give us a minute señor." I hurriedly put forward, taking my justice movement to another level.

I dragged the boys away from him immediately, heading toward the tomato vendor. The fruit vendor stuttered from behind.

"B-but! How about my reimbursement?!"

I waved without turning to him. "It will be paid. Just hold on!"

"Where... where are you taking us?!" Luis Miguel and his friends cried, their feet scraping across the floor. I remembered the vendor doing the same to María José.

I wished I could do worse to Luis Miguel and his crew. But for now, this should do. When we were a few feet away from him, I stopped, letting Luis Miguel and the others stand awkwardly in front of the stall.

Their backs were rigid, their gazes flicking from me to the vendor like trapped animals searching for an escape.

"Tell him," I ordered.

Nobody moved.

"Tell him," I repeated, slower and more authoritative this time,

Luis Miguel licked his lips, glanced at his friends, then took a tiny step forward. "Uh... señor?"

The vendor almost didn’t look up. "¿Qué?"

Luis Miguel swallowed hard. "Uh... so... you remember when that girl knocked over your stall? A few days ago? Red hair, bruised face?"

At that, the vendor’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Sí, the wolfless De la Vega girls what about her?"

Luis Miguel shifted from foot to foot, the sweat collecting at his temples. "Uh... well... see... it wasn’t really her fault."

The vendor’s bushy eyebrows furrowed. "¿Qué dijiste?"

"It was us," one of the other boys piped up, voice trembling. "We—uh—we tripped her. On purpose."

A sharp silence descended, one that felt like the whole market had taken a collective breath and was waiting to see what would happen next.

The vendor stared at them. Blinked. Then his nostrils flared as a deep, gruff sound reverberated in his chest. And before Luis Miguel could finish whatever pathetic excuse he was about to spit out...

BAM.

The vendor’s fist landed straight across his face. Luis Miguel yelped, stumbling backward into his friends.

"¡Miserables mocosos!" the vendor bellowed, launching himself forward with all the fury of a bull seeing red.

His thick, calloused hands grabbed the closest boy and yanked him forward.

"¡Ustedes me hicieron perder dinero, malnacidos! You suckers cost me money!!" He gave the boy a shove so hard that the kid tripped over a crate and landed flat on his back.

"I—I—lo siento... I... I’m sorry..."

"YOU’RE SORRY? MY BALLS!"

"¡LO SIENTES, MIS PELOTAS!"

Why the heck was this hypocritical vendor acting like he hadn’t blamed Maria Jose and even ripped her off, taking more money then she owed because I witnessed it all.

I would need to come teach him a lesson very soon as well. But for now, I was enjoying his anger and what it was doing to Luis Miguel and his gang.

He came with another swing, this one landing on Gonzalo’s shoulder, sending him spinning into a basket of oranges.

The vendor was an angry beast. He had his fists flying, curses spilling out of him faster than a priest could exorcise a demon. And I let him.

Hell, I enjoyed it.

Luis Miguel tried to bolt, but I caught him by the back of his collar and shoved him right back into the storm. "Oh no, you’re gonna take it like a man."

"Beta, por favor..."

I folded my arms. "You weren’t saying ’por favor’ when you were shoving my sister into the dirt, were you?"

I watched his eyebrows raise. "Your sister?"

The vendor grabbed Luis Miguel by the ear and twisted it before he could get his replyfrom me. "You little rat! You think you can make a fool out of me?!"

Luis Miguel howled, flailing uselessly. "¡Me va a arrancar la oreja!"

"Good!"

The vendor landed another slap for good measure before finally releasing him. Luis Miguel staggered backward, his face red, his hair a mess and his pride shattered. His friends weren’t any better off—Gonzalo was limping, Patchy mustache was rubbing his shoulder, and the last one...

Well, he was wiping blood off his nose with a handkerchief, looking incredibly put out.

"This is barbaric," Luis Miguel muttered. "We should be handling this civilly."

"Funny," I said, tilting my head. "You didn’t seem so worried about civility when you were ganging up on an Omega."

Patchy mustache sniffed. "That was different."

"Was it?" I stepped closer, and he flinched back. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly the same."

He had no answer for that.

"Alright," I said, cracking my knuckles. "You wanna act like animals? You wanna tear people down for your own amusement? Fine. Now you’re gonna learn what it’s like to be the ones at the bottom."

I pointed at the ground.

"Sweep. The whole damn market."