Alpha Hamilton
Every day that maid comes in and injects me with something, I suppose that's what keeps my body limp and useless.
My son Maurice has turned into a snake. It's his ritual to come once a week just to gloat, to stand over me and say to my face that he's the alpha now and that he's doing a better job than I ever did.
I can't move except for my eyes. It's been like this for three years. I haven't seen Bella even once; her husband could at least bring her so I could see my child.
I still remember the way she looked at me that day, like I'd plunged a knife into her chest. But I did everything for her, and the worst part, I couldn't spend the money I got from Dylan.
By now Maurice has probably squandered it. What does that runt know about leadership or politics? He's just a ch
