My fingers tighten around the phone 104

Bella’s POV
Mother bustled around my bedroom, muttering under her breath as she rearranged my belongings for what felt like the
hundredth time. She’d been in perpetual motion since my return from the hospital weeks ago, her nervous energy filling
every corner of my room. The bruises from Aria’s attack had long since faded to yellow shadows before disappearing
entirely, but Mother still hovered, insisting I needed “complete rest” to recover.
I wasn’t fooled. Her fussing over me was just a convenient excuse to avoid Father’s thunderous moods.
Marcus had been storming around the pack house like a hurricane ever since that self-righteous bitch Aria declared we
couldn’t see Lucas anymore. As if we were some kind of threat to the brat! Yet Father, blinded by his ridiculous devotion
to his “real” daughter, sided with her. Again.
What a waste of a perfectly good plan. That irritating little pest was supposed to get truly lost, not found. Maybe then
Aria would have finally broken completely.
“Bella, darling, your shoes are everywhere!” Mother’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as she knelt near my closet,
gathering scattered stilettos and boots. “How do you find anything in this chaos?”
I stretched languidly against my pillows, barely glancing in her direction. “As long as they’re designer and current, I
couldn’t care less where they live.”
Not that I could afford many new pairs lately. Father’s decision to freeze my accounts had left me wearing—I shuddered
internally—last season’s Louboutins. The indignity of it all.
I was in the middle of mentally cataloguing all the creative ways I’d make the old man pay for this humiliation when a
sharp knock on my door frame made both Mother and me jump. Speak of the devil. Marcus stood in the doorway, his
broad shoulders nearly filling the space.
“May I come in?” His voice carried that carefully controlled tone.
I plastered on my sweetest smile, the one I’d perfected in the mirror since childhood. “Of course, Daddy!” I straightened
against my pillows, subtly adjusting my expression to one of delicate recovery. “What a lovely surprise!”
Mother froze near my closet, a strappy silver heel dangling forgotten from her fingers. The tension radiating from her
body was palpable, her eyes darting between Father and me.
Father approached my bed with measured steps. He reached down and patted my head in that condescending way I
despised—like I was some pet he was acknowledging rather than his daughter. My skin crawled at his touch, but I kept
my smile firmly in place. Dignity be damned, I wanted my credit cards back.
“How is my dear daughter feeling, Bella?” he asked as he settled his weight on the edge of my mattress.
I tilted my head slightly, making my eyes wide and innocent. “Much better! The doctor says my injuries have healed
nicely. I should be able to resume light activities soon.”
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Father’s lips curved upward, but the smile never reached his eyes. They remained cold, calculating. “Excellent news. Since
you’ve recovered, I need you to make amends with Aria.”
The request hit me like a bucket of ice water. My carefully crafted expression slipped for an instant before I could catch it.
“What?”
Mother stepped forward, her knuckles white around the heel she clutched like a weapon. “Marcus, surely you can’t be
serious?” Her voice quavered with indignation. “Aria physically attacked our daughter! It’s dangerous to send my precious
Bella anywhere near that—that violent woman!”
Father’s head snapped toward Mother, his gaze so cutting I half-expected to see blood spill from where it landed. “She
was protecting her child—my grandson—after Bella lost him. Any mother would have reacted the same.”
“It was an accident!” Mother’s voice rose to a whine that set my teeth on edge. “That strange child simply wandered off! He’s not right in the head—not normal at all! It’s Aria’s fault for raising such an odd, disobedient little—”
“ENOUGH!”
The word exploded from Father with such force that the windows seemed to rattle. Pure Alpha pressure crashed down
upon the room, making my lungs constrict and my wolf cower. Mother’s mouth snapped shut, her body trembling visibly.
I couldn’t remember the last time Father had wielded his power so ruthlessly against us.
When he turned back to me, his eyes had shifted partly to wolf—amber flecks swimming in the human brown. “I have missed precious years with both my daughters because of this ridiculous feud. I will not tolerate it any longer.” Each word
fell like a hammer blow. “My family will be whole again. You will do whatever it takes to repair your relationship with
Aria.”
Something snapped inside me. All the resentment, all the hatred I’d carefully hidden behind sweet smiles and dutiful
daughter acts came boiling to the surface.
“Daddy! I’ve tried being nice! I’ve tried apologizing!” My voice rose with each word. “But Aria is a complete and utter
bitch! She looks down on me, treats me like I’m nothing!” My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms. “She’s
always standing in my way, stealing what should be mine! The pack position, your attention, everything!” The truth burst
from me like poison from a lanced wound. “I hope she drops dead! I refuse to apologize to her again!”
The slap came so fast I didn’t see it—only felt the explosive pain as Father’s palm connected with my cheek. The force
snapped my head sideways, sending stars dancing across my vision. Shocked silence filled the room for one heartbeat
before Mother’s scream shattered it.
“YOU HIT HER!” She rushed to my side, her body practically vibrating with fury. “How DARE you strike our daughter! Have
you lost your mind?”
I pressed my palm against my burning cheek, staring up at Father in stunned disbelief. In all my years, he had never—not
once—raised a hand to me. The stupid fat old man had actually hit me. Over his disgusting dear daughter.
Father straightened his clothes, smoothing out invisible wrinkles to calm himself. “Go apologize to Aria. That’s an order.”