The Rejected daughter chosen by the Alpha (Maya and Atila) novel Chapter 77

Chapter 77

A

MAYA

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“How did you find out?” she snarled, her voice cracking halfway through.

“Doesn’t matter.”

I got off her slowly, like I wasn’t shaking apart on the inside. My heart was slamming against my ribs, my hands trembling-but I wasn’t about to let her see it. I wasn’t about to give her that satisfaction.

Josephine tried to crawl away, dragging herself across the floor on her elbows, panicked and desperate to get out.

I was faster.

I grabbed her arm and yanked her back like she weighed nothing-like she was trash. Something in me snapped into place, something violent and merciless, fueled by pure revenge.

She screamed.

I didn’t even flinch.

I walked into the bathroom, opened the cabinet, and grabbed a roll of medical tape. The thick kind. The kind that actually holds. Then I came back slowly, staring her down the whole time.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, breathless.

I crouched beside her and smiled-cold, sharp, meant to scare her.

“Are you afraid?”

“I raised you, you ungrateful little bitch,” she spat.

I grabbed her arm again and started wrapping the tape.

“Wrong,” I said calmly, “You tortured the daughter of the woman you spent years envying. That’s not raising someone. That’s cruelty. There’s a difference.”

She tried to jerk her arm away, but I tightened the tape until she hissed. I wrapped one wrist, then the other, then bound them together so tightly her hands were basically useless.

“Let me go!” she growled. “Help! Somebody help!”

I leaned in close, so close I could smell her perfume mixed with blood.

“Yeah,” I murmured. “Scream. Make a scene. Call the whole town. Because the second people start

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looking, it’s going to be a lot faster for everyone to find out what you and my father did.

I smiled against her fear.

“And I promise you the council won’t give you anything less than the death penalty.”

She froze.

The screaming stopped instantly.

Her eyes went wide, calculating, searching for a way out.

Then her mouth twisted into a hateful little smile.

“You whore,” she said. “When did you change? When did you turn into this nasty little slut?”

1 held her stare without blinking.

“I didn’t turn into anything.” I said quietly. “You made me. Day after day. You remember? You planted this rage inside me. You watered it. You fed it.”

“You’ve lost your mind!”

I grabbed her face with one hand and squeezed, hard enough to feel her jaw tense beneath my fingers.

“Good,” I snapped. “That works out great for me, doesn’t it?”

She groaned, but she still tried to poke at me through the pain.

“Careful,” she whispered. “This body still belongs to your mother.”

I let go immediately.

My breath caught. My chest rose and fell once-twice.

That was when I felt it.

The danger.

The trap.

But I wasn’t going to fall for it.

I shut my eyes for a second, forced my breathing to steady, and stood.

Then, without rushing, I grabbed her and dragged her down the hallway. She tried to brace herself against the walls, clawing for leverage, but she was weak-dazed from the damage to her face, disoriented from the beating

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Chapter 77

When we reached the stairs, she started crying. Not from pain.

From rage.

“Stop…”

I didn’t answer.

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I dragged her into the living room and threw her onto the couch like she was just a body. Like she didn’t matter.

She landed on her side, taped up, breathing hard.

I stood over her.

Josephine stared at me like she didn’t recognize me.

Like I was someone else.

And I was.

I walked to the living room cabinet and opened it.

Inside-right where I remembered-was the recorder.

She’d kept it there for years.

I grabbed it, stepped back into the center of the room, and turned it on.

The click sounded loud in the silence.

“Go on,” I said, pointing it at her. “Start from the beginning. Tell me everything that happened that year.”

She laughed.

Weak. Breathless. Still full of contempt.

“You really think you’re going to force a confession out of me?”

I tilted my head.

“Why not?”

I smiled.

And then I stomped down on her foot so hard she let out a scream that didn’t even sound human.

“AHH-!”

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Chapter 77

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She tried to yank her legs away, but with her arms bound, she couldn’t defend herself. Couldn’t fight. Couldn’t do anything but suffer.

“Come on,” I growled, my blood boiling. “Talk, you bitch. Talk!”

“What do you want me to say?!” she screamed, shaking with fury.

I stepped closer, slow and deliberate.

“Start with how you stole my mother’s soul,” I said, voice low. “I want every detail. Every single one.”

Josephine stared at me, hatred and fear tangled together in her eyes. She was breathing like she was swallowing glass.

I lifted my foot again-slowly-making sure she saw what was coming.

She did.

And she panicked.

“Okay! Okay!” she blurted. “I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!”

I stopped.

A small smile pulled at my

“Good.”

mouth.

I tossed my hair back, grabbed a chair from the side table, and sat across from her with the

recorder in my

“Talk,” I ordered.

hand.

Josephine swallowed hard.

Her gaze slid away, off to the side, like she was trying to figure out where to start. Her mouth trembled, and for half a second, I almost thought she was going to cry for real,

Almost.

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