8

Flora's POV

The ballroom fell silent, dozens of shocked eyes on me, until whispers broke the stillness.

“How can she be Alpha Joshua’s daughter?”

“Look at her—dressed like a waitress!”

“She must be being punished.”

A group of women nearby gave me disgusted looks, their voices loud enough for me to hear.

“Punishment? After what she did? She deserves it.”

Their words stabbed at me, but what hurt more was my father’s reaction—or lack of it. He stood among the guests, saying nothing as they insulted me. His expression was hard and cold, as if I were a stranger instead of his daughter.

I turned my gaze to Zack, silently begging him to step forward, to defend me. But he only stood there, his arm draped casually around Alora, as if I didn’t exist.

Was this the same man who had once promised to love and protect me forever? How could someone change so completely in just a few days?

From the corner of the room, the pack’s omegas, who had jeered at me earlier, raised their voices again.

“She deserves the punishment.”

“She was always like this—characterless.”

My fists clenched as anger surged through me. I pointed at them, my voice sharp and trembling.

“What gives you the audacity to speak about me like that? What have I ever done to any of you?”

One of them sneered, her tone mocking. “You’re lucky the alpha chose to adopt you. If you were born into a middle-class family, they would’ve abandoned you long ago. You’ve ruined his reputation.”

Their words struck me like blows, but I refused to let them see how much they hurt. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my spine and spoke, my voice steady and clear. “Everything you’ve heard is a lie, all part of a plot to bring me down.”

The crowd shifted uneasily, some of them glancing at each other in confusion. My words—and the conviction in my voice—seemed to make them hesitate. For a moment, I thought I might finally have a chance to defend myself.

Then, a waiter stepped forward, holding a tray of drinks. “I have evidence that she’s lying,” he announced loudly.

All eyes turned to him, and my heart sank. As he handed the tray to another waitress, I realized he was the bartender from that night.

“You!” I hissed, my fists clenching in anger.

Ignoring me, he pulled his phone from his pocket and held it up for everyone to see. “Look at this photo,” he said.

The screen displayed a photo of me leaving the hotel with the masked stranger. The angle made it look as if we were close, too close.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by murmurs of judgment and disdain.

I froze, realizing too late that I had been set up again. This was Alora’s doing—there was no doubt in my mind. She had orchestrated everything, from the room card to this humiliating “proof.”

Zack growled, his face twisted with anger. “You lied when the truth was staring us in the face,” he spat, his voice dripping with contempt.

“It’s not what it looks lik—”

“Shut up!” he said, his harsh words shattering what little hope I had left.

I turned to the crowd, trying desperately to explain. “This isn’t what it seems!”

No one listened. Their judgmental stares closed in on me, their whispers growing louder.

The crowd surged forward, pushing me toward the door.

I stumbled, barely able to keep my balance as someone shoved me. My knees buckled, and I braced for the impact of the cold, hard floor. But strong arms wrapped around my waist, steadying me before I could fall.

The scent that surrounded me was intoxicating, familiar in a way I couldn’t explain. I looked up, startled, to see the same man from the hotel room once again. Tall and imposing, his grip held me, firm yet gentle, as he helped me stand upright. My heart raced as I met his piercing eyes.

Why was he here? And why was he helping me again?

Before I could speak, Alora’s voice cut through the air. “Look at her,” she said with a sarcastic grin. “There are so many men around my sister.” Her words were sharp, designed to humiliate me further.

The man beside me turned his glare on her, his eyes blazing with fury. “What did you say?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Alora faltered, clearly taken aback by the force of his presence. Even my father seemed unnerved. His face paled, and he murmured something under his breath as he stared at the man.

“Who is he?” Alora asked, her voice trembling as she addressed my father. “Did we invite him?”

I was surprised to find my father Alpha Joshua’s eyes widened, panic flickering across his face.

Before he could respond, a soldier in a royal uniform stepped forward. “King Aron,” the soldier said, bowing deeply. “I’ve been looking for you.”