Rejecting the Heir, Fxxking the Alpha's Father

Rey Jhon was holding Gabriella tightly as they continue walking into his room. No matter how hard he tried not to breathe in her sweet scent, he just couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to block it from his nose, to stop his mind from thinking about how good her perfume smelled, but his body refused to listen. It was as if it had a mind of its own.

The heck! It’s not just her perfume; it’s her natural smell. He mumbled.

His grip on her waist was firm. If he let go, they might not even reach his room. Both of them could fall on the floor and end up bathing in their own blood.

Gabriella is acting like a worse beauty queen while holding a bottle of liquor earlier, she kept drinking directly into the bottle. She had finished all the liquor they bought and didn’t even give him a single bottle. But the girl he was holding now was a different kind of beauty queen—a drunk one, swaying left and right like she was walking on stage.

“I told you, Jhon,” she said, tightening her hold on his arm. He wasn’t sure if she really wanted to hold him, or if the spirit of the alcohol had taken over her body and made her forget he was gay. “I know you’re not gay, I’m pretty sure.”

She giggled again and stopped him from moving forward, her nails digging deep into his skin, and cutting all his flesh.

The walls of his room almost shook from the loud music blasting next door, yet even the girl’s whispers were clear to him. His room was small, but it felt even smaller when he and Gabriella stepped inside together. This was probably the worst mistake of his life.

This will be the last time, Gab. I’ll never let you come to my boarding house again, he told himself.

She grabbed his collar. His white polo shirt instantly turned dirty with her touch. She leaned her face close to his, their lips just an inch away. Even swallowing felt impossible.

All he could do was stare at her. At her eyes that seemed to tempt him, at her lips that looked redder than ever. It was as if her lipstick hadn’t faded at all—or maybe that really was the natural color of her lips. Slowly, her lips curved into the sweetest smile.

He quickly shook his head and tried to calm himself down. He took deep breaths to push away the dirty thoughts running inside his head. Why was he even feeling this way? This was wrong!

“I’m gay! How many times do I have to tell you that?” he said and looked away.

Ever since the alcohol took over Gabriella, she had kept saying he wasn’t really gay. That only made him angrier. He knew who he was—so why was she insisting otherwise?

If this went on any longer, he feared that his long-held beliefs about himself might start to change. Forcing himself, he dragged his feet toward the room, planning to let Gabriella sleep. Every step felt heavy, like he was carrying a huge weight. He regretted ever letting her go through with her plan—he wouldn’t be stuck in this mess if he had said no.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” Gabriella mumbled. “This is so freaking—”

She suddenly fell quiet and didn’t finish her sentence. He stopped walking and looked at her. Even with her eyes closed, her beauty was undeniable. Sometimes, he wondered—why wasn’t he born a real woman? Wouldn’t that have made life easier?

“I hate her.”

He pushed the door open, startled by her words. The air grew heavy. Maybe anyone would feel the same if they were stood up. Maybe they’d also blame the world, or even curse the stars until the night turned completely black.

Pity won over him when he saw tears fall from Gabriella’s eyes. He didn’t know how much pain she was feeling, but he understood—it hurt.

“I hate her!”

His chest pounded harder than ever. He almost dropped Gabriella when she shouted.

She suddenly hugged him, crying her pain out on his shoulder. He let her, even hugged her back. All he could hear was her sobs, and they made him sad too. What could he do to ease her pain?

“Just sleep, you’re drunk,” he whispered.

“Why is it like this? Am I that bad? I just wanted to see her. Even if she gives me nothing, it’s okay. I just want to—”

“Maybe she just had something important to—”

“More important than me?”

“Miss—”

He couldn’t finish. Gabriella hugged him tighter. He wanted to understand her, but his thoughts kept going elsewhere. He scolded himself for thinking of the wrong things when the girl in front of him was hurting.

“You’re not gay, right? Can you pleasure me tonight?” she asked, her voice strange and shaky.

In shock, he pushed her away. Luckily, she landed on the bed. His whole body froze at her words. He wanted them erased, gone from his memory.

He knew what he wanted in life. He knew his plans. He knew who he was. Even if he couldn’t shout it to the world, he knew he wasn’t a straight man—and no matter what this girl did, that wasn’t going to change.

He looked at Gabriella lying on his bed. All he felt was pity—but why did the room suddenly feel so hot? He blew out a breath and fanned himself. Even the way he fanned himself showed who he truly was.

You won’t tempt me, even if you strip naked! he hissed to himself, stomping toward the door. But he froze when he felt a hand grab his arm. He wanted to scream, but stayed quiet—he didn’t want the landlady to throw him out of the boarding house. When he looked at the hand holding him, his heartbeat raced even faster.

Oh goodness! I don’t want bibingka. I want hotdog! he muttered in disgust.