Chapter 104: _ The De La Vega Storm
The scent of blood was in the air, clinging to my nose and throat. It was like a horrible reminder of the way his hands crawled down my body with filthy intentions. The way fear wrapped around my neck so tightly, it felt like a noose.
It reminded me of a lot I’d rather forget about.
The butcher’s shop was busy, men working in the back, their knives flashing as they hacked at slabs of meat. The sound of cleavers hitting bone sent chills up my spine.
The moment we stepped inside, my father straightened his shoulders, his presence commanding the entire room.
Conversations died. Heads turned.
The butcher looked up, and his face morphed into that of horrification as he saw my father approaching.
And then my father began his show.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice booming, "I have come here today to show why my family’s name must be respected by all means. It seems my daughter has brought shame upon it, but I will not allow our reputation to be dragged through the mud. Wherever you hear the name; De la Vega, you bow your head in idolization, not take advantage of it. Not even if it is my useless Omega daughter!"
The moment my father’s words rang through the butchery, the butcher did the only reasonable thing a man in his position could do—he turned on his heel and bolted.
Unfortunately for him, reason had no place here today.
My father’s men were faster.