Chapter 109
My jaw tightens.
“Did you also hear about the massive pitfall trap on that ‘easier’ route? Yeah, I’m quiet sure you did.”
“And just what are you implying?!” Karina snapped.
“That you messed with me before,” I hissed. “And people don’t change.”
The room goes dead silent.
Karina’s face twists. “Like I would screw over my own team just to have Dom come and save your sorry ass. Liar.”
“Enough.”
The instructor steps inside, and the argument snaps shut like a slammed door. Everyone straightens automatically, resentment simmering just beneath the surface.
He doesn’t waste time.
“Your team placed last, disqualified even,” he says bluntly. “Which means consequences.”
My stomach sinks.
“You’ll be assigned manual labor and community service,” he continues, voice even. “It will be overseen personally by the future Alpha.”
Oh my gods.
Why?
I know who it is before the door opens.
I just don’t want to believe it, my chin dipping to my chest.
Footsteps sound behind us.
And then-
Dominic walks in.
Karina practically glows.
“Oh,” she breathes airy. “Thank gods! Yes! Yes!” Jumping up and down.
My stomach drops straight through the floor.
Dominic stoped next to the instructor. He looks cleaner today, sharper. Uniform crisp. Expression unreadable. Alpha composure locked firmly into place like armor.
He doesn’t look at me.
I don’t look at him.
We’re sent to the locker rooms without ceremony, the space echoing with the scrape of shoes and the quiet shuffle of people who already know who’s about to suffer the most.
Dominic starts assigning work immediately.
His tone is calm. Measured. Professional.
And unmistakably cruel.
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Chapter ind
+30 Bonus
“Karina-organize the supply inventory.”
She beams, “Of course!”
“Jake-wipe down the benches.”
“Marcus-take out the trash.”
Then his eyes finally land on me.
“Ellie.”
I straighten instinctively, every muscle tight.
“Scrub the showers,” he says. “All of them.”
My chest tightens.
“After that,” he continues smoothly, “you’ll move to the drains. Then the utility sinks. Toilets. Then the equipment storage.”
I open my mouth.
He doesn’t pause.
“You’ll also haul the disposal bins out back and rinse them.”
Silence stretches.
No one else is given anything remotely comparable.
“Dom,” I hesitate.
“It’s Dominic.” He corrects short. “It’s there a problem?”
“Dominic,” I sigh tight. “I get your mad but-”
He takes a step towards me. “Are you implying I am being unfair?”
My brow raises. “Well-”
“Because,” he says quick, sharp. “From what I remember, you let your team down. You fell. There for, you bare this weight. Is that alright with you? Or should we keep talking about what’s…fair.”
The air is…tight.
He’s serious.
Seriously hates me.
There was no arguing with him. No compromise or explaining. Not now.
After a moment, I snatch the mop. “No, that seems perfectly fair.” I mock, pushing a shoulder past him.
By the time I start, my leg is already screaming. Every step jars the bruise, but I grit my teeth and work anyway. Water splashes my clothes. Grime coats my hands. The sharp smell of cleaner burns my nose.
Minutes pass. Then more. Hours maybe. As he nit-picks every task.
“Ellie,” Dominic says coolly, appearing at my side. “That’s not thorough enough.”
I scrub harder.
“Consistency matters,” he adds. “Reliability.”
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+30 Bonu!
I swallow.
He circles back again later.
“You missed a spot.”
I go back over it without speaking.
“Attention to detail is important,” he says, voice neutral. “Especially when trust is involved.”
My hands are raw now. My sleeves soaked. Dirt streaks my arms and stains my clothes. I can feel eyes on me.
Karina’s smug glances, the others’ quiet smirks.
Dominic never raises his voice.
Never swears.
Never loses control.
To anyone watching, he looks stern but fair. An Alpha enforcing consequences. Professional. Impartial.
To me, it feels deliberate.
Personal.
Every correction lands like a small hit. Every task like a reminder that I am being singled out-and that he wants me to feel it.
And I do. Stupid ass. I get it. He’s pissy and I fucked up.
I work in silence, jaw clenched, swallowing the anger and humiliation until it sits heavy in my chest.
The only thing I know is he’s mad.
Like really mad this time.
And I’m not sure if I can get through to him.
Or if I even want to.
This could be the break I’ve been looking for.
But it if it is, my brush slams into the toilet.
Why does it feel so wrong if I leave it broken.
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