I couldn't believe I had acted that way. Whether I called it frustration or tried to label it in some other way, the fact remained. He had left the car, his embarrassment evident, while I chose to stay inside for a few more minutes to collect myself. "I nearly lost my virginity to someone who couldn't care less," I muttered to Thia, hoping to provoke some sort of response from her. It was odd; even in our inability to transition, at least we had each other's company. However, I hadn't heard from her since I woke up. "Fine, give me the silent treatment. I'm heading home." I rolled my eyes and exited the car, offering the excuse that Thia might be upset over the fact that I hadn't lost my virginity to someone she was still mated to. That's when I noticed Rosalie, the devil herself, approaching the car with food in hand. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted me, and she immediately started scanning the surroundings. "I'm not hiding him between my legs," I muttered under my breath as I stepped out of the car, preparing to leave. Being in the same car with her was enough to drive me to the edge. However, she wasn't going to let me pass without having a word with her. The moment I stepped out, Rosalie stood before me, clearly annoyed and frustrated. "Don't expect his concern to be anything more. He looked after you because he's an alpha, and that's his role," she scoffed, seemingly trying to convince herself as much as me. I attempted to walk away, but she followed, prompting me to halt and finally address her. "Why are you avoiding me?" she inquired, tilting her head with each word she spoke. "What do you want, Rosalie?" I replied, accompanied by an eye roll. "There's nothing you can offer me," she shrugged, pursing her lips and leaving me puzzled. "Then why are you on my back?" I sighed, locking my gaze with hers. She swallowed, realizing she was making herself look foolish by blocking my path without having anything substantial to say. "I just wanted you to be clear that no matter what kind of tricks you try to play, Atticus will never accept you," bitterness dripped from her words, but it didn't catch me off guard. She had always been possessive of Atticus and Enzo, to the extent that her lack of a mate never seemed to bother her. "I have no interest in Atticus anymore," I responded without hesitation. "But since you keep reminding me that Atticus isn't interested in me, let me share something with you." I closed the distance between us, just enough to study her expressions closely. "We were making out in this car for a solid five minutes until I put an end to it." My statement seemed to widen her eyes almost comically, but she redirected her gaze to the side, perhaps attempting to conceal her anger. "He also rescued me from some street gamblers last night. So, why don't you ask him about the games he's playing by acting tough in front of you while acting differently when he's with me?" I forced a smile filled with teeth, directed solely at her. My words appeared to leave her stunned, and she released a barely audible breath. Shock was evident in her eyes as they remained fixed on my face, akin to seeing a ghost. "Miss Rosalie, your friend tells you one thing and then turns around to do something else with me." I relished the sight of her looking hurt. It was one of those rare moments when I saw my bully flabbergasted and didn't shy away from savoring every ounce of her reaction.With her seemingly drained of energy to continue arguing, I decided it was time to leave. My purpose here was accomplished. "I don't know what I'm going to tell my dad," I said to Thia, still attempting to coax her into conversation, but she steadfastly refused to utter a word. Returning home later than expected, I braced myself for a likely lecture from my father. As I stepped in, I spotted Mr. Holt in the living room with my father. "Why are you so late?" My father disregarded Mr. Holt's presence, immediately rising to confront me. Instinctively, I shielded my eyes, anticipating a blow. To my surprise, no blow came. When I cautiously opened my eyes, I found Mr. Holt positioned with his back towards me. "Don't tell me you're considering striking your eighteen-year-old daughter? She's no longer a child," Mr. Holt argued in his distinct British accent. It felt strange, yet oddly comforting. "But look at what time she's returning home. Everyone in the neighborhood has their eyes on her. They're calling her a whore. We're rogues; we grapple with challenges every day, and these rumors can only make our lives worse," hearing these words come from my father's mouth felt like a painful slap. "She's eighteen! How can they label her like that?" Mr. Holt grumbled. "Identify those responsible for spreading these rumors, and I'll handle them personally." His actions made me feel like someone actually cared. "That won't be necessary. I can handle it," my father replied, flashing a forced smile, shaking his head, and waving his hand. He knew he was fibbing, so the only way out was to divert the topic. "It's just that she hasn't found a mate, and she's avoiding it altogether," my father remarked, tracing my path and pretending to gaze at me affectionately. "Why is that?" Mr. Holt inquired, turning to face us. His brown shirt was noticeably wrinkled. I couldn't help but wonder why he had formed a friendship with my father. They were complete opposites, and the age difference between them didn't seem to add up. "She insists she can't leave her ill father and younger sister at the mercy of indifferent neighbors. She keeps saying she'll marry a wealthy, older man who'll be willing to care for her family," my father continued with his fabrications, leaving me flabbergasted. My jaw practically dropped as I watched my father, utterly bewildered by how he could concoct such a falsehood and what he hoped to achieve by it.