003

ELIANA

Overwhelmed and utterly bewildered, I stood frozen, grappling with Gabriel's rejection. Folding clothes mechanically, my mind replayed my father's haunting words: "The love he claims to have for you will soon die." His disdainful tone echoed, conjuring painful childhood memories and unleashing a fresh wave of tears.

With a heavy heart, I reluctantly dragged my box out of the compound, casting one final glance at the life I was leaving behind. The stark reality of my departure settled in, and I fought back tears, blinking uncontrollably to stem the emotional tide.

The permanence of my departure was almost too much to bear, and I struggled to accept the finality of it all, my mind numbing the pain by convincing me it was just a temporary goodbye.

As I settled into my ride, headed back to the chaos I thought I'd escaped forever, I felt a pang of despair. The ride seemed to fly by, and I wished it could last forever—a fleeting refuge from the sorrow that awaited me.

Gazing up at the building, a wave of dread washed over me, and my stomach twisted into knots. Resignation settled in; I steeled myself for the unpleasant reality that awaited.

I stepped into the house, noticing the subtle differences. The once-vibrant flowers now wilted, their beauty faded, echoing the melancholy that filled my heart.

"Eliana?" My stepmother's voice snapped me back to reality. Her familiar scowl greeted me. "Go..." I began, but she interrupted, "What are you doing here?"

Her physique remained unchanged, her raven hair still glossy. Despite my animosity, her beauty was undeniable. The same genes that made Vivian stunning were evident in her, a frustrating parallel.

Her piercing gaze roamed over me, lingering on my box and pale complexion. "I... I came to clear my head," I stammered, "to stay here for a while." I added.

"A while, huh?" She repeated, her eyes narrowing at the box. "Just to clear your head?" Her skeptical gaze lingered, then shifted, as if weighing options.

I nodded.

With a curt nod, she let out a devilish smile, a smile of victory, and signaled the maids, who promptly stepped forward to relieve me of my box.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible, weighed down by the crushing emotions that rendered me speechless.

Self-loathing washed over me. I didn't blame her; I blamed myself. If only I weren't cursed, my mother would still be alive. Victoria wouldn't be questioning my right to stay in my father's house. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

I gazed around my room, frozen in time. Everything remained exactly as I'd left it. The familiarity was suffocating. I collapsed onto the bed, the creaking mattress echoing my weary sigh. Old wounds resurfaced, the weight of memories and regrets settling heavily upon me.

A soft knock pierced the air. "Your presence is required in your father's room," the maid's gentle voice called through the door. My heart sank. Victoria had clearly wasted no time informing him of my arrival.

I smoothed my dress with trembling hands, steeling myself as I entered his room. But he wasn't there. I proceeded to the sitting room, and his piercing gaze met mine. My heart racing, I froze.

I walked down the stairs slowly, my heart racing. He sat engrossed in his magazine, a cup of coffee beside him. His eyes lifted, piercing mine. I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Young lady, I wasn't expecting you," he said, his voice devoid of warmth, his gaze still fixed on the magazine. No hint of affection or welcome. Just indifference.

"It... was an emergency," I stuttered, feeling like I was being interrogated by a strict employer, not speaking to my own father.

"I told you it wouldn't last, didn't I?" he said, his voice cold. "Now the owner's back, reclaiming what's hers." He looked up, his eyes piercing. So he knew.

I sniffled, desperation creeping in. 'Please,' I begged, my tears welling up, threatening to spill. How could he prefer another person's daughter over his own? The unspoken question echoed painfully in my mind.

I swallowed hard, struggling to contain my emotions. His brown eyes scanned me with disdain, their coldness suffocating.

His words cut deep. "You have limited time left in this house. I don't want things falling apart now that you're back,” each word he uttered pierced through my heart. I met his gaze, absorbing the pain.

His words seared into my soul. "Yes, your presence makes things fall apart." He never failed to remind me that I was cursed.

"Darien's pre-alpha ceremony is soon, and you're coming. I must find someone suitable to pair you with." His eyes remained fixed on the magazine.

"Pair me with...?" I whispered, fear creeping into my voice. His gaze remained fixed on the magazine, unaware or unconcerned with the dread spreading through me.

"Eliana, you can't stay here. Your presence brings chaos. I must find someone else willing to take you in." His eyes blazed with hatred. "But my mate just rejected me." It took me a lot of courage to say that.

Each word cut deeper than the last, a merciless barrage on my heart. "Mate or not, whoever takes you—old, young, beta, or omega—I’ll gladly give you up. Your presence suffocates me."

"But—" I attempted to protest, only to be abruptly silenced.

"No more questions, Eliana!" he barked. "Put on something decent. If no one's attracted to you today, you'll end up on the streets."

Just then, his beloved walked in, cup in hand, her eyes narrowing in disdain as she gazed at me, her expression a familiar blend of contempt and disgust.

"Am I interrupting a beautiful moment between father and daughter?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

She knew it was no beautiful moment; there was never any beautiful moment between us.

"And why is she dressing up?" Victoria asked, her red lips brushing against my father's forehead, exchanging a warm smile.

"For Darien's ceremony," he replied, finally looking up from the magazine. Victoria's brow furrowed. "Why is her presence needed?"

Victoria's brow remained furrowed as she glanced between my father and me. "I need to find someone to take her in; she can't stay here," he repeated, his words biting harder now that Victoria witnessed his rejection.

Vivian's voice dripped with disdain. "But would she be coming with us?"

"No, of course not," Father countered. "She'll come with Michael."

Vivian flicked her hand dismissively. "You can leave." Her gesture was eerily reminiscent of shooing away an animal. I resisted the urge to say what I had in mind. She wouldn't want to hear it.

Victoria was my mother's very close friend. I could tell from the pictures of my mom because Vivian was literally in all of them. As if being with her friend's husband wasn't enough, she still had the guts to hate me; she was definitely taking exclusive classes from the devil.

Despite my frailty, I mustered the strength to obey my father's orders. It's not like I could do otherwise. I knew it wasn't an empty threat. He was capable of throwing me to the streets... He had done worse.

I slipped into a red, strapless body hug dress, its tight fabric clinging to me like a second skin. A gift from Gabriel. I had initially resisted wearing it, but somehow found myself putting it on.

My life depended on this ceremony; I had to put in my best, if not…