The True Alpha

Two

CHAPTER THREE

The next afternoon, I walked home after completing the transfer formalities at Welma Academy. It still felt unreal—I was actually going to a school filled with rich kids.

As I passed through the park near my neighborhood, I noticed a girl holding a cupcake, standing in front of a boy. Even from a distance, it was clear she was confessing her feelings. They both looked expensive—the kind of wealth that wasn't just in the clothes they wore but in the way they carried themselves.

The girl had long, sleek black hair and big, striking blue eyes. Even from the side, she was stunning.

The boy, also with black hair, had a more casual look. His hair was slightly messy, like he'd been running his fingers through it all day. But somehow, it suited him.

I watched as the girl's bright smile slowly faded. She extended the cupcake and a letter to him, but he didn't even hesitate—just took them, turned around, and walked straight to a trash can.

Without a second thought, he tossed the letter inside, placed the cupcake on top, and walked away.

She didn't cry or make a scene. She simply turned and left, her head held high.

I walked over and picked up the cupcake. It wasn't like I cared about the love story that had just crumbled before me, but there was no point in wasting food. My mum would appreciate a little treat at the bar.

When I arrived at the bar, I wasn't expecting to walk into chaos.

A woman, dressed in a fitted designer gown and heels sharp enough to kill, was yelling at my mother. Before I could even react, she struck her across the face.

"So, you're the cheap slut my husband is cheating on me with?" the woman spat, eyes burning with rage.

My mother staggered back, clutching her cheek. "He told me he was single!" she shouted back. "He even showed me divorce papers—I had no idea he was married!"

That was when I put it together. The suit guy.

His name was Mr. Gidotti.

And this furious woman? His wife.

I didn't hesitate. I ran forward, shoving Mrs. Gidotti away from my mum. "Enough!" I shouted, my voice sharp and unwavering.

I helped my mother up and led her outside, away from the glares and whispers of the bar patrons. We found a small garden nearby, a quiet place where she could catch her breath.

Digging into my pocket, I pulled out the cupcake and placed it in her hands. "Here, Mum," I said softly.

She stared at it for a moment before looking at me with tired eyes. "Peach?"

"Yes, Mum?"

She smiled weakly. My mother had called me Peach since I was a little girl. It was a name full of love, one that made me feel like a child again—safe, even if just for a moment.

"It's okay if you don't want to transfer to the new school," she said suddenly.

I frowned. "No, Mum. I want to."

Her expression shifted, worry flickering in her tired eyes. "Mum, why do you look so worried?" I asked. "I thought you wanted this for me."

"Of course, Peach. Of course, I want that for you." She sighed, hesitating. "But…"

"But what, Mum?"

She wiped at her eyes, her fingers trembling slightly, and took my hands in hers.

"Honestly, Peach… I'm scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared you'll get bullied, being the new kid and all. I don't want that for my baby girl."

I knew my mum well enough to know that wasn't her only concern. But I didn't press her.

Instead, I straightened my shoulders and said, "Mum, I'll earn my own scholarship. I have to go to the best school."

She studied my face for a long moment before nodding. "If that's what you want, Peach… I'll support you."

Then she pulled me into a tight hug, holding on like she was afraid to let go.

And I held on just as tightly.