In the weeks and months after, I kept going back to the estate, back to Mommy's room to sit a while.The Alpha kept his word. He slapped Vanessa every week.But I never called him Dad.That word had been deleted from my dictionary forever.The Alpha wouldn't give up. He kept trying, like a man doing penance.He told me he visited Mommy's grave every week with a bouquet of lilies and talked to her about his days.I told him, “Mr. Alpha, please don't.”He asked why.“Because Mommy doesn't want to see you. It was that simple, Alpha.” I said.He couldn't look me in the eye.And Vanessa got her reward, five years of weekly slaps from him.He wouldn't let her leave. He had to torture her to prove how sorry he was.He thought that if he kept at it long enough, I'd forgive him one day.It was funny.My hatred was an ocean, and he thought he could empty it one glass at a time.Vanessa couldn't take it. She started paying for male company outside the house, working out her anger on strangers.Ph
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