Alpha Dane's Little Project

Vivica's POV

"Hurry, Hale!" Lydia, the head chef, barked my surname. 

A deliberate act to keep my father's name alive- to serve as a constant reminder of his betrayal to the pack.

 "You don't have to show the world how lazy you are all the time." She mumbled under breath, but loud enough for every maid in the kitchen to hear. "Don't keep the guest waiting!"

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, before carefully grabbing the drink and walking out of the culinary wing.

I rushed, my legs moving as fast as possible, while my hands did all they could to stabilize the freshly squeezed orange juice in the tray. As usual, I was met with the same scornful looks as I walked down the hallway.

It's been two decades since my Dad committed suicide after betraying the pack, and my mom- who couldn't live without her mate- followed suit. 

 I had learned to hold my head up, though not too high, despite the endless gossip. It was the only way to survive this hellhole. Besides, for  how long would I  atone for a sin I didn't commit?

As soon as I approached the entrance to the guest bedroom, the guard standing by the door  blocked the way with his hand.

"I was asked to deliver this to the guest," I mumbled.

He asked me to hold on, then he  knocked on the door before going inside. He came out almost immediately.

"You can go in," he said.

I gave him a weak smile before entering the guest room. 

A tall woman with strawberry-blonde hair had her back to the entrance. 

"Your drink, ma'am," I announced respectfully.

As I lowered the tray on the small table in the side of the room, she spun to face me. A cynical expression I'd recognize anywhere plastered on her perfectly glammed face.

"Betty?" I whispered, coming out as more of a gasp of terror than a greeting of surprise. 

Her glossy, ruby lips stretched into an arrogant smile as she catwalked toward me.

"Long time no see. When did you return?" I blabbered nonstop, forcing a polite smile to conceal my nerves.

In a blink of an eye, she smacked me hard on the cheek. My head snapped to the side. I quickly messaged the spot, trying to soothe the burning sensation her fingers had  left behind.

"That's for talking casually, as if  we belong in the same hierarchy" she gritted, before landing a second slap on the  other side of my face. "And this one is  for taking an eternity to bring my drink."

"What the-" 

"Another word from you and I'll have you kicked  out of this territory. You know who my father is, don't you?" she bragged.

My mouth clamped shut in defeat, but my eyes  still remained possessed by a  rage  that could kill.

She dropped onto the couch and crossed her legs, picking up the glass. She was about to take a sip but stopped suddenly. "How sure am I