The Rejected daughter chosen by the Alpha (Maya and Atila) novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52

– MAYA

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The mask hid half my face, but it couldn’t hide the shock that swept through me as I leaned carefully toward the kitchen

window.

The ballroom on the other side felt like an entirely different world.

Massive chandeliers hung from the mansion’s high ceiling, scattering light across dozens of ornate masks. Guests kept arriving-one after another-dressed in formalwear, expensive fabrics, warm smiles. The muted music blended with the constant hum of conversation, creating a dense, electric atmosphere that seemed to vibrate in the air.

“Wow,” I whispered before I could stop myself. “Are you seeing this, Beatrice?”

She stood beside me, masked as well, her hair twisted into a neat bun at the crown of her head, her server’s tuxedo perfectly fitted. She smiled beneath the fabric, her eyes bright.

“I am. I knew Mr. Lucien’s family threw big annual parties, but I never imagined… all this.”

I watched another group glide into the room, laughing softly, effortlessly.

“It looks like the entire pack was invited,” I murmured. “Did you know it would be this crowded?”

“No,” Beatrice said, shaking her head. “Definitely not.”

Before we could say more, the contractor’s sharp voice echoed through the kitchen.

“You two. Back to work. Start serving.”

We straightened instantly, shoulders back, slipping into our professional posture without even thinking.

“Yes, ma’am,” we answered in unison..

The kitchen moved like a perfectly tuned machine. Everyone had a specific role, and no one stood still for more than a few seconds. Some organized trays, others filled glasses, others coordinated the constant flow of servers heading into the ballroom.

I walked over to the counter where the drinks were being prepared. Rows of crystal flutes were filled with champagne, the golden liquid bubbling softly. I picked up a tray, balancing its weight carefully, the cold metal biting into my fingers.

Beatrice did the same beside me.

“How does my mask look?” I asked, tilting my face slightly toward her.

“Perfect,” she said without hesitation. “Yours too. Let’s go.”

Before leaving the kitchen, I slipped my hand beneath my uniform and adjusted the blue stone necklace hidden against my skin. The cool touch of the gem grounded me, offering a thin thread of comfort even as my heart raced.

I walked beside Beatrice into the ballroom. The moment we passed through the double doors, we were swallowed by movement. Servers rushed past, guests raised their glasses, voices overlapped in laughter and conversation. Even with so many staff members, there was no pause. We kept moving-between tables, around sweeping gowns and broad shoulders- always careful not to spill.

Heat built beneath my mask. My breathing grew shallow, my senses overloaded by scents, voices, and the constant closeness

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Chapter 52

of bodies. I focused on the task. One step. One glass. One tray at a time.

Until I tripped.

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It happened in a heartbeat. One wrong step, someone crossing my path, and the tray tilted. Champagne spilled, splashing across the dark suit of a masked man standing near the edge of the room-and onto me as well.

My heart slammed into my throat.

“Oh-oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” I blurted out, the words tumbling over each other. My voice dropped as I added, almost pleading, “It was an accident.”

He glanced down at his damp jacket, then back at me.

“It’s all right,” he said calmly. “You got wet too.”

I nodded quickly, my face burning.

“You’re the guest,” I stammered. “I-I don’t matter. This was completely my fault.”

Before he could reply, a woman approached. She wore an elegant black dress, her delicate mask sharply contrasted with her perfectly styled blonde hair.

‘Oh my God, Átila!”

The name hit me like a blow.

slowly, I lifted my gaze to the man in front of me and really looked at him.

So… it was him.

For a split second, the world seemed to tilt off its axis.

‘Don’t make a scene, Victoria,” he muttered, his voice controlled.

she turned toward me, her eyes sharp behind the mask.

What happened here?” she asked, her tone low but cutting. “Weren’t you instructed to pay attention while serving?”

opened my mouth to respond, but she continued, unhurried.

These trays aren’t heavy,” she added, her gaze flicking to the stain on his suit. “Or maybe they are-for someone not used to noving among people like this.”

The words landed like a punch to my chest.

‘If you can’t handle something so simple,” she went on, adjusting her posture, “perhaps you should stay in the kitchen, where mistakes like this don’t show. Or better yet, you shouldn’t have taken the job at all if you can’t even hold a tray properly, girl.”

The impact was immediate and brutal. Old wounds split open-memories of my family’s house, the looks of disdain, the cold corrections. I took an unconscious step back, my throat tightening, air suddenly hard to find.

“I’m sorry.” I murmured, forcing the words out. “It was an accident.”

“Enough. Victoria,” Atila said, his voice turning sharp. “That’s enough.”

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5:17 pm P WMM.

Chapter 52

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