The Rejected daughter chosen by the Alpha (Maya and Atila) novel Chapter 120

Chapter 120

Chapter 120

– ÁTILA

“The shooter got away, sir.”

35 vouchers

Daniel Harris’s voice reached me before I even lifted my head. I was standing in the hospital’s side courtyard, where the cold air of a rainy day still lingered, heavy and damp, mixed with that sterile smell that seemed baked into the walls of the place.

I’d stepped out for a few minutes to speak with the head of security while Maya remained in her room with Beatrice at her side.

I closed my eyes for a second.

“Fuck…” I muttered under my breath, barely audible.

My hand curled into a fist at my side, the muscles in my forearm tightening until it hurt.

Harris stayed silent for a few seconds, like he was giving me space to absorb the inevitable. Then, with a calm, deliberate motion, he pulled a small envelope from inside his coat and held it out to me.

“This was found attached to the windshield of one of your cars in the hospital garage.”

I frowned and took the envelope, feeling the stiffness of the paper between my fingers.

“What is this?”

“We believed you should see it personally, sir.”

I opened the envelope slowly, even though every part of me already knew what I’d find inside. There was a single sheet of paper folded in half. Plain. White. Too clean.

I unfolded it.

The words were printed in uniform black letters.

YOU SURVIVED. AGAIN.

BUT SHE PAID THE PRICE FOR YOU.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED WATCHING HER BLEED IN YOUR PLACE.

THIS WAS ONLY A WARNING,

YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER.

I WON’T STOP. I WON’T FORGET, I WON’T GIVE UP.

IF YOU DON’T SURRENDER YOURSELF, EVERYONE AROUND YOU WILL FALL. ONE BY ONE.

I WILL TEAR YOUR WORLD APART UNTIL THERE’S NOTHING LEFT.

AND WHEN IT’S FINALLY JUST YOU….

I WILL FINISH THIS.

16:47 Tue, Apr 28

Chapter 120

I AM WATCHING. ALWAYS.

35 vouchers

For a moment, I felt nothing.

No shock. No fear. No surprise.

Only confirmation.

My fingers tightened on the paper hard enough to crumple it slightly before I forced myself to relax. I lifted my eyes slowly to Harris.

“Have you checked the garage cameras?”

He nodded immediately.

“Yes, sir. All of them.”

“And?”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second.

“We didn’t find anyone suspicious. No unusual movement. No unfamiliar faces approaching the vehicle.”

My jaw locked.

“Then how the hell did that get there?”

“That’s exactly what concerns us, sir. There’s no record of anyone accessing the vehicle directly.”

“Look again,” I said, my voice low, steady. “There is no such thing as someone entering a private garage without being seen. Without being recorded. If this happened, someone failed.”

He nodded without hesitation.

“Yes, sir.”

Then I turned and walked back inside the hospital.

The silence of the corridor wrapped around me instantly, broken only by the distant hum of machines and occasional footsteps. My feet carried me automatically toward the wing where Maya was admitted, like my body had memorized the path on its own.

But I stopped before going in.

Through the glass door, I saw her.

She was awake.

Sitting up in bed, her shoulders slightly slumped, her skin far too pale under the artificial light. Beatrice sat beside her, leaning close, saying something softly while holding her hand. Maya nodded slowly, a small, fragile movement.

My hand curled into a fist again.

She should’ve been home. Sleeping in her own bed. Living a life that didn’t include blood, bullets, or hospitals.

But instead, she was here again.

16:47 Tue, Apr 28

Chapter 120

Because of me.

The realization hit hard enough to tighten my chest.

35 vouchers

I looked away, unable to endure it for another second. My hand lifted before I could stop myself, and my fist slammed into the wall beside me with a sharp, violent crack.

Pain exploded

But it wasn’t enough

Nothing was enough.

my fingers.

I leaned forward until my forehead rested against the cold surface, closing my eyes as the warning from that bastard’s note replayed in my mind.

She was in danger staying near me.

Not a distant possibility. Not an irrational fear.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify