The Alpha Don's Defiant Heiress

CHAPTER ONE: DONNA'S POV  

There was a limit to what one could endure, and my limit had come really close.  

I looked at my stepmother and my stepsiblings discussing my marriage plans with their guest while I stood in front of them.  

The eldest, Chris, walked into the room and handed a file to his mother. She grabbed it and searched through it for eligible men from wealthy homes. It was creepy how they had all this information.  

Also, I was an official rogue like my father, but they tried to force me into a pack by marriage while knowing a low-ranked wolf like me wouldn't survive.  

My expression stayed straight while I watched this. What was I to do anyway? I still held the broom and mop I used to clean her room before I was called to the living room. I was merely her servant.  

"There is no man in your life at the moment, right, Donna? I keep checking all these men, but most are Betas, Deltas, or Warriors, and none of them would be interested in you."  

The way she tried to sound like she cared, yet she downgraded me. I was a living Cinderella, working my bones in my own house at all times. I didn't even have friends, so how would I get a boyfriend?  

"I'm only twenty-one, stepmother. I'm sure I'll find someone when I'm less busy." I said "someone" because it could be anyone, especially one not in a pack.  

My father would roll in his grave if I ever returned to a pack after they killed my mother.  

My stepmother's guest looked at me with obvious disgust on her face, but I only looked away, being used to that for five years now.  

Stepmother hummed and closed the catalogue. She said something in her native language to her friend, and they chuckled.  

I turned to leave since it seemed they had finished what they wanted me for, which was to ridicule and curse me at the end. They only looked for a man to marry me off and lessen expenses—not that I took even one-tenth of it.  

"Donna!"  

I froze and turned back to my stepmother. Her eyes had become slanted and annoyed. "Did I say you should leave?" She gave me a file. "Sign before you leave."  

Sign? That sounded serious, and the file seemed to have the emblem of a pack.  

"Can I ask what it is?" I couldn't just sign it no matter how urgent she sounded.  

"The cost of university and the cost of your mother's burial that you owe. Sign here, and it's over," my stepmother said.  

My eyes widened, and I took the file hurriedly. This woman had made me pay my own school fees, and when I couldn't, she made me owe her.  

My lips stretched into a smile. Did she finally get a conscience and want to free me from this? There was a knock on the door, and my joy was interrupted.  

My stepmother pointed at the door and retrieved the file. I eagerly hurried as I imagined myself out of the house and living my own life. I kept the broom and mop on the wall and rushed to the door when a second knock came.  

Who was that impatient person who couldn't wait for a minute? I would bet it was one of my stepsister's friends who acted like they owned the house.  

I opened the door, and my frown flattened. There was no one, only a letter on the ground. I picked it up and looked around. Then my heart nearly burst from my chest when the loud whirring sound of a power bike sped past.  

I couldn't even see it pass because I jumped back in fright. Our gate was open because of my stepmother's visitors.  

The gateman came running out when he heard the loud whirring sound. He turned to me and tilted his head. I shrugged—I also had no idea what or who that was.  

We didn't have any teenager in this estate. My stepmother made sure there were only young families with little children for it to be less noisy.  

"So what's that, girl?" my stepmother's friend asked. I turned to her, and she was slightly shivering. "Close the door. The air is cold."  

I closed the door, grabbed the broom and mop, and left the room. The letter was hidden perfectly inside my apron. I had to make sure who it was addressed to.  

I distracted my thoughts with my duties and forgot about the letter in my apron. By the time I finished my duties, it had gotten soaked.  

A long sigh left me. The hierarchy in my house was messed up. It was neither by work, nor would I have been the highest; nor by age, nor would I be higher than my stepsister; nor by bloodline, nor would I be the highest again as the only true blood of Draven Household.  

My stepmother married into the family after she and her kids lost their pack. Yet they forgot all that.  

The door opened downstairs—my stepmother must be back from escorting her friend home. "Donna! Get down here!!"  

My hand accidentally hit the kettle from getting startled. I quickly raised it after spilling all the hot water on the ground. Another mess I had to clean.  

"Yes ma!"  

I wiped my hand and rushed down the stairs, while hoping Priscilla didn't get into the kitchen, or she'd see the mess and tattletale.  

My stepmother's expression changed to the tolerant face she always kept when she saw me. She took out the file from her bag and handed it to me.  

I opened it with a broad smile on my face. Then I paused. I reread the heading and the names attached to this file.  

"A... marriage?" A scowl came to my face that I didn't try to hide.  

Chris looked up from his laptop. "Any problem?"  

My eyes scanned the clauses written. It was a contracted marriage to a Mr. Smith. Wasn't that the name of my stepmother's old boss? I turned to her for answers.  

She folded her arms. "I found a way to pay your debt, and the man is willing. There's nothing you can do but accept this, Donna. Sign."  

My heart pounded uncontrollably inside of me as I clenched my fists. There was a limit to what one could endure, and I believed I had reached that limit.