The Alpha's Runaway Daughter

Cleo The basement smelled like mould, damp earth, and blood. Every breath I dragged into my lungs made my stomach churn, but I forced myself to keep breathing. I had to. Because every time I screamed, they laughed. The c***k of the whip split through the room again. Pain exploded across my back, and a scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Behind me, my father chuckled. He sounded pleased. Almost proud. As though my suffering were some accomplishment he had been waiting all night to achieve. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to disappear somewhere inside my own mind. Anywhere would be better than here. But there was nowhere to hide. Not from him. Not from them. My stepmother, Britney, Clay, the Beta and the Gamma stood across the basement watching me as though this were some kind of entertainment. They were smiling. Laughing. Enjoying every second. My stomach twisted. How could people who called themselves my family look at me like this? How could they watch me suffer and feel nothing? “Beat her, my love,” my stepmother encouraged, her voice filled with sickening delight. “Show that ungrateful little b***h what happens when she forgets her place.” My father laughed. “Don’t worry. By the time I’m finished, she won’t forget again.” Britney giggled. “So, Cleo… how are you enjoying your birthday?” The others laughed. I stared at the floor, tears burning my eyes. Of all the birthdays I could have imagined… This wasn’t one of them. “Oh, I think she’s enjoying herself,” Clay added mockingly. “She’s finally getting all the attention she wanted.” “She wanted a birthday party,” my stepmother said. “Now she has one.” Their laughter filled the basement. I wanted to scream at them. I wanted to tell them they were monsters. Instead, I stood there trembling, because I knew exactly what would happen if I gave my father another reason to hurt me. My father stepped around me until he was standing directly in front of me. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head backward. A sob escaped me. His eyes met mine. There was nothing there. No love. No remorse. Nothing that resembled a father’s concern for his daughter. Only cruelty. “Are you having fun yet?” he asked. “Please,” I whispered. “Please, just stop.” He tilted his head. “Stop?” I nodded frantically. “You don’t have to do this.” His expression hardened. “You wanted a birthday party, didn’t you?” I stared at him in confusion. What was he talking about? “You wanted attention. You wanted everyone looking at you.” His lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Well, congratulations, Cleo. Tonight, you’re the centre of attention.” “No, Daddy. I swear I didn’t mean—” “Don’t call me that.” The words hit harder than the whip. I froze. He leaned closer. “You lost the right to call me that a long time ago.” A fresh wave of fear rolled through me. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I could feel it. There was something behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Something that made the cold basement suddenly feel even colder. Clay laughed from across the room. “She still doesn’t get it.” My father looked toward him. “Enough.” Clay immediately fell silent. Then my father turned his attention back to me. He leaned toward my ear. “I promised you a birthday you’ll never forget.” He paused. “And I always keep my promises.” My blood ran cold. “Why are you doing this?” I whispered. He smiled. “Because I can.” Then he stepped away. The next c***k of the whip sent pain ripping through me. I screamed. But this time, something was different. My stepmother had stopped laughing. She was whispering urgently to the Beta and Gamma. They nodded. My father’s gaze shifted toward them. Then back to me. And he smiled. Not the smile of a man who had won. The smile of a man who had just thought of something far worse. An icy knot formed in my stomach. “Britney. Clay.” His voice was dangerously calm. “Get out.” My brother’s face fell. “What? Why?” “Now.” Britney shook her head. “But Dad, we want to stay.” My father’s expression changed. “Get. Out.” The color drained from their faces. Neither argued again. They practically ran from the basement. The heavy door slammed behind them. Silence descended. I stared at my father. He looked at my stepmother. She smiled. And somehow, that smile frightened me more than anything that had happened so far. My father walked toward me. “Now,” he said quietly, “we can give our little Cleo the birthday she deserves.” My heart began pounding. “No…” He reached for me. I fought. I screamed. I kicked. But there was nowhere to go. The Beta and Gamma moved toward me. My panic intensified. “What are you doing?” Nobody answered. They dragged something from behind a stack of boxes. Metal scraped against the concrete floor. My eyes widened. An old table emerged from the shadows. I shook my head. “No. Please…” My father’s smile returned. “Hold her.” The Beta and Gamma grabbed me. I fought with everything I had left. But they were stronger. They forced me onto the table while my stepmother secured my wrists. I thrashed desperately. “Please! Somebody help me!” Nobody came. My stepmother stepped back and admired their work. “She isn’t going anywhere.” My father nodded. “Good.” Then he looked toward the Beta and Gamma. “Now leave us.” The two men exchanged a glance. And for the first time that night, I saw something other than amusement in their eyes. It was anticipation. My blood ran cold. My father closed the basement door. The lock clicked into place. And as I lay there helplessly, staring at the three people who had destroyed my life, I finally understood something. This hadn’t been about punishment. It had never been about my birthday. It had all been leading to this. And whatever they had planned… I was terrified I wouldn’t survive it.