Piss Off, Alpha! You Lost Me Forever

SOPHIA’S POV

When I arrived at Stone Villa, something felt off the moment I stepped inside. The house was quiet, but it wasn’t the peaceful kind of quiet.

It felt heavy. Even the servants moved more carefully than usual. I noticed this.

I didn’t waste time. I walked straight inside.

My mind kept replaying what the teacher had said earlier, and the more I thought about it, the more it unsettled me.

Ashley didn’t go to school, she had no friends, and she was becoming difficult with others. I had been so caught up in everything else that I hadn’t noticed how much she was struggling, or maybe how much she was changing. The thought alone made me feel guilty.

When I reached the living room, I saw her.

Ashley was sitting on the couch, staring at the television. But she wasn’t really watching it. Her eyes looked distant, unfocused, like her mind was somewhere else entirely. There was no excitement, no energy, nothing like the usual spark she carried.

For a moment, I just stood there, watching her.

“Ashley,” I called softly.

She didn’t respond immediately. It took a few seconds before she slowly turned her head to look at me. Her expression didn’t change much. It was blank and that hurt more than if she had shouted at me.

She didn’t look surprised to see me. She didn’t even acknowledge me.

“Why didn’t you go to school today?” I asked. I kept my voice calm as I walked closer to her.

She looked at me for a second, then looked away again.

“I didn’t feel like it,” she muttered.

Her answer was simple, but it wasn’t enough. I could feel it. There was something else behind it. There was something she wasn’t saying.

“That’s not a reason,” I said gently, sitting down across from her so I could see her face clearly. “Did something happen?”

She shook her head “No.”

“Then why didn’t you go?”.

Ashley crossed her arms. “I just didn’t want to,.

I studied her for a moment, trying to find something in her expression that would tell me the truth. But she avoided my eyes. She was looking at the floor now.

“Ashley,” I said softly. “You can tell me anything.”

She didn’t answer.

I felt like I was reaching out, but she wasn’t meeting me halfway, and that hurt more than I expected.

Before I could say anything else, a voice interrupted from behind.

“Well, she said she didn’t want to go,” Tasha said casually as she walked into the room. “Why are you pushing her so much?”

I turned to look at her. She walked in casually, as if nothing was wrong, as if this situation didn’t matter.

“She skipped school,” I replied calmly “That’s not something to ignore.”

Tasha shrugged “She’s just a child. Children don’t always want to go to school. It’s not a big deal.”

I looked back at Ashley, who was now leaning slightly toward Tasha, like she found comfort in her presence. That small movement made me feel uneasy.

“It is a big deal,” I said, turning back to Tasha. “Habits start small. If we ignore them now, they’ll grow into something worse.”

Tasha didn’t argue directly. Instead, she just gave me a dismissive look.

Dinner that evening was tense.

The dining table was set beautifully as always, but the atmosphere was far from warm. Ashley sat beside Tasha, while I sat across from them.

As the food was served, I noticed something that immediately caught my attention.

One of the servants stood beside Ashley, peeling shrimp for her then placing them neatly onto her plate. Ashley didn’t even try to do it herself. She simply waited as if this was completely normal.

I frowned.

“Ashley,” I said. “You can peel your own shrimp.”

She didn’t look at me. Instead, she continued eating, as if she hadn’t heard me.

Tasha spoke up instead. “It’s fine. She’s still young. Why make her do it herself when someone can help?”

I looked at her. “Because she needs to learn. She won’t always have someone doing everything for her.”

Tasha smiled “Or maybe she doesn’t need to struggle unnecessarily. There’s nothing wrong with being taken care of.”

“That’s not taking care. That’s spoiling.”

Ashley’s hand paused for a moment, and then she looked up at me.

“You’re so mean!” she burst out. “Why do you always say things like that?”

I blinked. I was shocked by her reaction.

“I’m not being mean,” I said, trying to stay calm. “I’m teaching you.”

“I don’t need you to teach me!” she shouted. Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t even like you!”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. For a moment, I couldn’t respond.

Tasha leaned closer to her. Her voice sounded soft and comforting.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “You don’t have to listen to anyone who makes you feel bad.”

I felt something snap inside me.

“That’s enough,” I said firmly, standing up.

Ashley flinched slightly at my tone, but her tears didn’t stop. Instead, she cried louder.

“She doesn’t love me!” Ashley sobbed suddenly “She’s always scolding me! She doesn’t love me at all!”

Tasha gently rubbed her back “Some people don’t know how to show love. You shouldn’t expect too much.”

That was it.

I walked around the table without another word and picked Ashley up, ignoring her protests as she struggled in my arms.

“Put me down!” she cried.

But I didn’t.

I carried her upstairs. My heart was pounding with a mix of anger and pain.

Once we reached her room, I set her down on the bed. She continued crying.

“You’re not going to behave like this,” I said.

“I hate you!” she shouted again.

The words cut deep, but I didn’t react the way she expected. I didn’t yell back. I didn’t argue.

Instead, I stayed calm.

“You can cry,” I said quietly. “But that doesn’t change what’s right.”

She cried harder after that. Her small body kept shaking as she buried her face into the pillow.

Time passed slowly.

Eventually, her cries softened. They turned into quiet sniffles, then into silence.

She had cried herself to sleep.

I sat beside her bed, watching her small figure curled up under the blanket. Her face still held traces of tears. Her breathing was uneven even in sleep.

My chest ached.

I reached out slowly and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She looked so small, so fragile, so different from the stubborn child she had been earlier.

“I do love you,” I whispered softly, though she couldn’t hear me.

But love wasn’t always enough.

I sat there for a long time. I felt heartache and I felt helpless too.

I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing, but I knew I had to discipline her. I knew I couldn’t give in.

And that hurt more than anything else.