Maria.

Humiliation clung to me like a second skin, heavy and suffocating. It pressed into my chest, into my lungs, making it hard to breathe. Aidan had proven it again, so clearly, so publicly, that in his eyes I was never anything more than something to use, something disposable. An object. A body. A mistake.

My cheeks still burned from the sting of his slap, the pain sharp and lingering, as though his hand had branded me. I could still feel it pulsing there, a cruel reminder of what had just happened. Everywhere I turned, eyes were on me. I didn’t need to look up to know that. I could feel them, piercing, judging, devouring me whole as murmurs spread through the hallway like wildfire.

Whispers.

Gasps.

Condemnation.

My feet felt rooted to the floor, as though the ground itself had swallowed me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t lift my head. I couldn’t even cry. All I could do was stand there, frozen in the aftermath of my disgrace, my shoulders heavy with shame.

I wished, desperately, that the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

The murmurs kept growing, overlapping voices weaving together into a cruel, buzzing noise that filled my head. Every second stretched painfully long. My heart pounded, not with fear alone, but with a hollow ache that spread through my chest, leaving me empty and exposed.

Then I heard footsteps.

They were slow. Deliberate.

My heart skipped, then thudded violently against my ribs. Panic crawled up my spine. I prayed silently that it wouldn’t be one of them, that it wouldn’t be any of the Quadruplets returning to question me, to humiliate me further. I kept my head bowed, my lashes lowered, my body tense.

But the voice that followed shattered whatever fragile hope I had left.

"Well, well, well... look who we have here?"

My stomach dropped.

I didn’t want to look up. I really didn’t. But something in that voice, familiar, sharp, dripping with mockery, forced my chin upward despite myself.

Patricia.

Of course it was her.

Oh damn it, I cursed silently, dread flooding my veins. As if today hadn’t already taken everything from me, she was here to take whatever scraps were left.

She stood there with that same smug expression she had worn all my life, her lips curved into a cruel smile, eyes glittering with satisfaction as she took in my state, my flushed cheeks, my lowered posture, my obvious shame.

"If it isn’t my pathetic sister," she scoffed, stepping closer, invading what little space I had left, "the one who goes around seducing men for scraps of affection."

Her words sliced through me, sharp and precise.

"Are you tired of living?" she continued, her voice loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "Of all the people you could dare to seduce, why the Alphas?" She tilted her head mockingly. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

A ripple of murmurs spread again, louder this time.

I felt them closing in.

"It seems she’s always been like that at home," someone whispered.

"She’s trying to climb the ladder quickly," another voice chimed in. "Anything to raise her status."

"Disgusting," someone else said bluntly. "Why would she even want the Alphas?"

"Has she no shame?" a woman muttered. "Doesn’t she know they’re about to get married?"

Each word landed like a blow, one after another, relentless.

My fingers curled into my palms, nails digging into my skin as if pain there could distract me from the one tearing me apart inside. Patricia’s smile widened with every whisper, every accusation. She thrived on it. On this. On my destruction.

"I think she feels important because of the competition," a voice sneered. "But doesn’t she get it? She’s just a prize. Something the Alphas picked to pass the time."

That one broke something in me.

My head dropped fully then, my chin nearly brushing my chest as the weight of their words pressed down on me, heavy and unforgiving. It felt as though every cruel syllable had taken on physical form, stacking itself upon my shoulders until I could barely stand. I felt small, so small it frightened me. Smaller than I had ever been in my life, stripped of dignity, stripped of worth, reduced to nothing more than whispers, rumors, and ridicule whispered with smug satisfaction.

The hallway suddenly felt too wide, too open, as though there was nowhere to hide from the stares burning into my skin. Every breath came with effort, my chest tightening painfully while my throat burned, raw and aching, as if I had swallowed fire. I wanted to scream, to deny every lie, to tell them they were wrong, that they knew nothing about me, but the words refused to come. My voice was gone, swallowed whole by shame, leaving me trapped inside my own silence.

The murmurs didn’t stop. They echoed, ricocheting inside my head, growing louder, sharper, crueler with every passing second. Each laugh, each hushed comment felt like another cut, another reminder of how exposed I was. And I stood there, unmoving and trembling, drowning in humiliation, knowing with sick certainty that no matter what I said,or didn’t say, it would never change how they saw me. Their judgment had already been passed.

"Maria, I am not trying to shame you," Patricia said then, her tone shifting suddenly, smoothing itself into something almost gentle as she stepped closer. She tilted her head, drawing her brows together, carefully arranging her face into a convincing imitation of concern. "But I am worried about you. Truly. What if you lose your head one day?"

Her words dripped with false sympathy, each one coated in poison, and somehow they cut far deeper than open insults ever could. A faint, bitter smile tugged at her lips as she continued, lowering her voice just enough to sound intimate while still making sure everyone around us could hear. "I already begged Father to spare you back at home. That’s why you’re still alive, Maria." She sighed dramatically, as though recalling some noble sacrifice. "I wouldn’t want all my effort to go to waste."

The hallway erupted again.

"Such a pity," someone murmured. "She doesn’t even value her life."

"I wonder what she did at home that made them banish her," another voice said, curiosity tinged with judgment.

"She was probably caught with a man," an Omega scoffed. "What else could it be?"

Laughter, soft, cruel laughter, followed.

I felt every word sink into me, embedding itself into my skin, my bones, my soul. My chest tightened painfully, as though invisible hands were squeezing the air from my lungs. I raised my head slowly then, my vision blurred, and for the first time I truly saw the crowd that had gathered.

Betas. Omegas. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

None of them held power, yet together they felt overwhelming. Their eyes were sharp, eager, hungry for gossip and scandal. I could see it clearly now, this wasn’t a concern. This wasn’t curiosity. This was entertainment. I was their spectacle.

Patricia stood at the center of it all, composed and radiant, her concern perfectly rehearsed. She met my eyes and for a split second, the mask slipped. There it was, the triumph. The satisfaction.

My throat burned. I bit my lower lip hard, tasting blood, just to stop myself from crying. Crying here would only please them more. It would be another weakness for them to feast on.

My hands trembled at my sides. I felt exposed, stripped bare by lies I couldn’t defend myself against. No one wanted the truth. They had already decided who I was.

A disgrace.

A seductress.

A shameful rogue.

The murmurs continued, swirling around me, growing louder, heavier, until I felt like I was drowning in them.

I couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, I turned.

I didn’t think, nor did I plan. My body moved on instinct alone. I pushed through the crowd, my feet carrying me forward as fast as they could. The hallway felt unbearably narrow now, the walls closing in, the air thick and suffocating.

I needed to get out.

"Maria, wait!" Patricia called after me, her voice laced with fake concern, as though she were worried I might hurt myself. As though she hadn’t just set the entire pack against me.

I didn’t stop.

I didn’t turn back.

If I did, I knew I would scream. Or collapse. Or do something I could never take back.

Tears burned behind my eyes as I ran, my vision blurring completely now. The sound of my own footsteps echoed loudly in my ears, mixing with the whispers still ringing in my head.

She was a snake.

She always had been.

And I had been foolish enough to think I could survive in a place where people like her thrived, where lies were louder than truth, and cruelty was dressed up as concern.

I burst out of the hallway, gasping for air, my chest heaving as though I had been underwater for far too long. The world felt tilted, unreal, as if everything around me was spinning too fast.

But one thing was painfully clear.

I could not stay there.

Not with them watching me like prey.

Not with Patricia smiling behind me, already satisfied, already victorious.

So I kept running, away from the murmurs, away from the lies, away from her, because staying would have destroyed me completely.