Sold to the Devious Alpha

4.

"She took a tumble down the stairs earlier in those new heels, right, Elle?" I observed Estel and my father's stern expressions.

"Yes, the stairs. I'm sorry," I stammered, glancing at Lynn, silently hoping he'd buy into the lie.

"Stairs?" Lynn seemed skeptical, and frankly, I couldn't blame him.

"Yes, the stairs. Let's all sit down and discuss a few things," my father attempted to initiate a conversation, but Lynn seemed uninterested.

"No need for further discussion. We've already talked over the phone. Estel has prepared dinner for you," Lynn declared, but they refused to eat.

Lynn motioned for me to come closer, and as I hesitated, a smack on my rear startled me. I almost lost my balance but found myself in the arms of the guest.

Before I could comprehend, he set me down, and I managed a grateful smile. Franco's screams echoed as he was violently attacked at the bottom of the stairs.

"Please, Beta Lynn, stop this!" Estel pleaded, but Lynn remained unmoved. Franco was taking a severe beating, and the situation was dire.

I looked at Lynn, unsure whether to intervene, but before I could speak, Lynn gave a decisive order, "Stop."

The figure paused briefly, only to await further instructions.

"Take his hand," came the command.

"NOOO-!! Please! Don't do this to him. He will never touch her again. I swear!" My stepmother pleaded on her knees, imploring Lynn to spare Franco, but he appeared indifferent. Meanwhile, my father stood by, mere spectator.

A horrifying scream brought my attention back to Franco, blood pooling around him, his hand now detached. The figure withdrew and returned to its place next to the man set to take me.

I took a step away, paralyzed by fear. This fear wasn't like what I felt with my father or stepbrother; it was terror for my life. I couldn't survive such ruthless cruelty. My father's decision to send me to them seemed incomprehensible.

Estel, in a fit of rage, charged at me, blaming me for the situation. Lynn intervened, blocking her path, but her curses continued. My father, addressing the man, told Estel to take Franco to the pack hospital, prompting her disbelief.

As she left, her eyes conveyed a clear message: she wanted me dead.

"Sorry for the trouble, Lynn. My stepson needs to learn his place, and I'll ensure it's taken care of," my father asserted, his tone transformed from indifference to authority.

"Elle!" he called my name, and as the crowd focused on me, I couldn't meet his gaze. Doubts lingered about whether he truly considered me his daughter amidst the unsettling events with Estel and Franco.

My father's voice took on a different tone, a blend of lightness and authority that left me bewildered.

"Elle," he repeated, drawing attention back to me. I lowered my head, unable to meet his gaze. Questions swirled in my mind—was he truly my father? Did he dislike me for resembling my mother, and how did Estel and Franco fit into this twisted puzzle?

The room fell into a hushed silence, broken only by the distant sounds of commotion from Franco's ordeal. Lynn, the imposing figure, observed the unfolding drama with an air of detachment.

"Harland, you can't just let them treat him this way!!" Estel's desperate plea broke through the silence, her words laced with anguish. I stole a glance at her retreating figure, carrying the unconscious Franco with a detached hand.

My father, seemingly unfazed, responded sternly, "Take him to the pack hospital. Do not make me repeat it a third time." Estel's face transformed from shock to disbelief, and without uttering another word, she left the room with two of my father's warriors.

Her silent gaze as she passed me spoke volumes—resentment and a desire for vengeance. I couldn't shake the feeling that she held me responsible for the unfolding tragedy.

Lynn's gaze lingered on me for a moment, and then he turned his attention to my father, waiting for the next course of action. The air in the room felt heavy with tension as the onlookers anxiously awaited what would happen next.

"I am terribly sorry for the trouble, Lynn. It seems that my stepson needs to learn his place. I will make sure that is taken care of," my father repeated, his demeanor shifting once again.

I stood there, caught in the midst of this surreal drama, uncertain of my place and the true intentions of those around me. The questions that plagued my mind intensified, and I couldn't escape the feeling that my life was about to take a dark and unpredictable turn.