Chapter 129
The darkness of the basement pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket. The air was damp, the walls covered in patches of mold, and the faint sound of rats skittering across the floor made my skin crawl. My throat was dry, my stomach growling in protest. But it was my spirit that felt the heaviest. How long had I been down here? Hours? A day? It was hard to tell.
I ran my fingers along the rough, cold floor, searching for anything to distract myself from the growing ache in my body. The faint creak of the door opening made me freeze. My breath hitched as the light from the hallway spilled into the basement, and the silhouette of Steve filled the doorway.
“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “How’s my little rat doing down here?”
I didn’t respond.
“Oh, come on, Ayla. Don’t be so rude,” he said, descending the stairs with exaggerated steps. He was carrying a tray of food and a glass of water. My stomach clenched at the sight, but I knew better than to hope for kindness.
“Brought you some food,” he said, holding the tray out just far enough for me to see. “But, of course, there’s a catch.”
I stayed silent, my eyes fixed on the tray.
Steve knelt down, his grin widening. “If you want this, you’re going to have to give me something first.”
I swallowed hard. “What do you mean?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
He chuckled, the sound low and menacing. “Oh, you know what I mean. Give yourself to me, completely. And this”—he gestured to the tray—“is all yours.”
I recoiled, disgust twisting in my stomach. “You’re vile,” I spat.
“Careful, Ayla,” he warned, his grin fading. “You don’t have many options down here. No food, no water. You think you’ll last long?”
“I’d rather starve than give myself to you,” I said, my voice trembling but firm.
Steve’s expression darkened. “Suit yourself.”
He stood up, walked to the corner of the room, and dumped the food onto the ground. The glass of water followed, shattering as he threw it, the liquid soaking into the dirt floor.
“There,” he said, smirking as he turned back to me. “Now you can enjoy it.”
I stayed where I was, glaring at him as he walked back toward the stairs.
“You’re going to regret this, Ayla,” he said, pausing at the door. “But I’ll be back. And maybe next time, you’ll be more... cooperative.”
The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone in the darkness once more. I crawled into a corner, hugging my knees to my chest as tears streamed down my face. My throat ached with thirst, but I refused to cry out for help.
Time passed in a blur of darkness and silence. I didn’t move from my corner, my mind racing with memories of my father. He wouldn’t have let this happen. He would’ve fought for me, protected me. But he was gone, and I was alone.
The sound of the door opening again made my head snap up. This time, it wasn’t Steve.
“Ayla,” my stepmother said, her voice sharp and cold.
“What do you want now?” I croaked, my voice hoarse.
She descended the stairs slowly, her heels clicking against the wood. She looked immaculate as always, her perfectly styled hair and tailored dress a stark contrast to the filth around her.
“I’m here to make you an offer,” she said, folding her arms as she stood in front of me.
I didn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue.
“If you leave this place—leave this house forever—I’ll let you go,” she said.
I stared at her, my heart sinking. “Leave? This is my home.”
She scoffed. “Your home? Don’t make me laugh. You’ve been nothing but a burden since the day you arrived here. You should’ve left a long time ago.”
“This was my father’s house,” I said, my voice rising with anger. “He built this place for us. For me. You’re the one who doesn’t belong here.”
Her eyes narrowed, and before I could react, her hand came down hard across my face. The force of the slap made my head snap to the side, and I tasted blood in my mouth.
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” she hissed. “You’re nothing but a parasite, living off the scraps I’ve given you. And now you think you have the right to talk back to me?”
I glared at her, my cheek throbbing. “You’re the parasite,” I said, my voice shaking. “You and your bastard son. You’ve done nothing but take and take, and now you want to take this from me too?”
Her face twisted with rage. She grabbed my shoulders and shoved me to the ground, her knee pressing into my chest as she leaned over me.
“You listen to me,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “You are nothing. No one cares about you, Ayla. Not your father, not that Alpha you seem so obsessed with, no one. You’re a waste of space, and you always will be.”
She stood up and kicked me hard in the side, the pain making me gasp.
“Fine,” she said, straightening her dress. “If you won’t leave, then you can stay here and rot in the basement. It’s where you belong anyway.”
She turned and walked up the stairs, slamming the door behind her. I lay on the cold, hard ground, tears streaming down my face as I curled into a ball.
I scoffed she was crazy if she thought I would leave my father's house so that she and her stupid pathetic son can enjoy while I stay homeless. This was my home I would die here.
I would never leave this house.
But I would never give up either.
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