_ Bullied to the Nines

~María Jośe's Point of View~

The laughter around me was deafening, like a chorus of hyenas, as I tried to collect myself from the chaos of squashed tomatoes and embarrassment. The vendor, who was a short, rotund man with an obviously unstable temper and a thick Castilian accent, wasn't letting up. 

"¡Maldita sea! Look what you've done!" he shouted, shaking his fists at me. His face was as red as his ruined tomatoes. "You think these grew themselves? You think I work all day for this mess? No, no, señorita. You're paying me every last peso."

Maybe I could find some cash later to repay him with, but for now, I had nothing.

"Please," I began, my voice strained as I swiped sticky juice from my face. "It was an accident! I didn't mean to—"

"An accident?!" he bellowed, cutting me off. "My poor tomatoes! My _beautiful_ tomatoes! Look at them, crushed, ruined, unworthy even for salsa!" 

The crowd around us jeered and egged him on. "She has to pay!" someone shouted. 

"Yes, make the Omega pay for her clumsiness!" another voice called out.

My head began to throb. It seemed my life from now on would be from one problem to the other. I had just dealt with Rosa at home. My face was still bruised… I was still tired and totally exhausted.

Now, this. The vendor had dragged me all the way, making not only my already crumpled clothes a mess, but my body too. My bruises have doubled. I had injuries all over now.

It aches everywhere. I turned to the vendor, my hands clasped together in desperation. "Señor, I promise, I'll find a way to make it up to you! Please, I don't have the money right now—"

"¡Basta!" the vendor snapped, waving his hand dismissively. "No more excuses! You owe me 500 pesos, and I want them _now_!"

My protests were drowned out by the murmurs and laughter of the growing crowd. My face burned hotter than the midday sun as I scanned my surroundings for an escape, but my attention was caught by a particularly loud burst of laughter behind me. 

I turned, and there they were: _them_. Four boys stood a few meters away, leaning casually against a wall as if the entire scene were a comedy show meant just for them. Each of them was grinning like a Cheshire cat, their mirth clear as day.

"¡Ay, por Dios!" I groaned, recognizing them instantly. They had gone to the same high school as me. 

The four troublemakers in school—and maybe in the entire pack as well. Worse, one of them had made it his personal mission to obsess over me like he'd been shot by Cupid's arrow.

However, in school, I was the golden student. My father's favorite child was to be respected everywhere. Hence, he could never approach me. Never.

Not that he didn't make attempts though. He did his best—the love letters squeezed in my bag when I wasn't looking, the candies he snuck under my desk with poorly written notes.

I could still picture his horrendous handwriting—the way his letter 'a' never closed up at the top, making it difficult if it was intended as an 'a' or a 'u'.

I never took him seriously. Frankly, no one ever did. 

I mean, we weren't to be blamed. If he and his friends weren't being punished on the assembly ground for making spiteful remarks at the teacher, they were cleaning the male toilets for scaling the school fence. 

Father would have my head if he saw me around such a company. Not that I could tolerate them as well anyway.

But right now, Luis Miguel, the leader of their little gang and my stalker stepped forward. His sharp jawline, olive-toned skin, and devil-may-care smirk had once charmed half the girls in our school—but I had always found him insufferable.

"¿Qué pasó, princesa? Need some help cleaning up your mess?" Luis called out with mockery.

Okay, he was here to play the knight in shining armor or what? After spending the entire high school years trying to impress me, he dedicated the two years of pre-university to show me that he's moved on from me.

I didn't care. Still don't.

Now, what I cared about was why he and his silly little gang had decided to push me and dump me in this stupid mess.

 "Don't act innocent! You pushed me!" I snapped, my fists punching the air beside me.

 Luis Miguel's smirk widened, and he exchanged a glance with his friends before breaking into laughter. 

Rafa snorted. "Why wouldn't we? You're just a worthless Omega. Belonging to the dirt kind of suits you."

I was running in sheer anger now. I turned back to the vendor, pointing an accusatory finger at the boys. "They're the ones who pushed me! Make _them_ pay for the tomatoes!"

The vendor folded his arms and glared at the boys. "Is that true? Did you push her?" 

Luis Miguel's arrogant grin was still there. "So what if we did? The tomatoes are still ruined, and someone's gotta pay, viejo." He walked closer to me, meeting my furious gaze with his mischievous one. "But it's not gonna be me."

I took a step back as he closed the distance between us. My heart thudded in my chest when he reached out and brushed his fingers along my cheek. "You always act like you're too good for us, don't you?" 

Luis Miguel murmured, gripping my chin and tilting my face upward. His tone was menacing and daring now. And then, I affirmed it; for all the times I had refused to acknowledge his perverted efforts, Luis Miguel was going to make me pay. 

I gulped down hard.

"But look at you now. No car, no wolf, no daddy to save you. Just a pretty little Omega waiting for any wretched person willing enough to take her."

My stomach churned, but I knew his kind; if he could as little as smell fear from me, he'd never stop.

 "My father will hear about this," I said through gritted teeth. "And when he does, he'll make sure none of you can ever show your faces in this pack again."

At first, he released my chin. I thought my little threat had worked when he and his friends exchanged silent glances. 

However, suddenly, Luis Miguel laughed, his head tilting back as though I'd told the funniest joke in the world. "Oh, princesa," he said, leaning in closer, "you really think your daddy cares enough to come to save you?"

My throat ran completely dry. That… was a little moment of epiphany for me.

My life was ending. Rosa was right; I was going to die.