Help! the four Alpha's are obsessed with me.-Chapter 136 Matt vengeance

TWO WEEKS AGO (Day After the Accident)

A metallic taste filled his mouth, making him grimace as he blinked and tried to block out the harsh sunlight stabbing at his eyes. He tried to move, but his body refused. That’s when he realized he was strapped to a chair, heavily bound with chains.

What the fuck...

What deranged cow did this to me?

Daniel’s eyes darted around and quickly realized he was in an open alley, surrounded by antique-looking furniture that didn’t belong in this century.

Goodness, did I somehow transmigrate to ancient times?

But if he did, why the hell was he tied up like this? Damn it, novels had really messed him up—imagine him actually wishing to be transmigrated to one of those periods.

Delulu indeed.

Still trying to see if he could escape, he twisted and pulled at the chains until a sharp pain stung his arm, making him flinch. It was useless. Escaping this nightmare of a restraint was impossible.

Then someone moved in the shadows—a faint sound of wheels rolling followed.

"Who’s there? Why did you bring me to this shithole?" he snapped.

A horrendous stench hit him next, so foul it nearly made him yank his hair out—if only he could reach it.

The rolling stopped. The sound of the tires ceased completely. When Daniel strained his eyes to see, a silhouette emerged. Thankfully, there was enough light; otherwise, he’d have gone insane by now.

"Show yourself properly, you coward," Daniel spat.

And then he saw the face—Ricardo, or rather, whatever was left of it.

The man looked like a nightmare that had clawed its way up from hell. His face was divided into grotesque segments, chunks of what used to be his skin hanging loosely.

Well, karma was a bitch, wasn’t it? That’s what you get for fathering two evil beings who should’ve been terminated before they reached the earth’s crust.

Remembering something, Daniel shifted his hand to his stomach and sighed in relief when he felt it—his baby was still there. Intact.

But the memory of the accident came rushing back—how they almost died, how Xylander saved him and the baby... but where was he now? Where were the others? Did they make it out alive? The thought tore through him like claws.

No, they couldn’t be dead. They were alive. They had to be.

When he looked back at Ricardo, he grimaced again. God, he should shift the hell away. He stinks like a rotten corpse.

If not for his baby’s safety and his own health, Daniel would’ve questioned the mannequin of a man standing before him—but knowing Matt, one wrong word could make the psychopath finish him off earlier than planned.

"You’re alive, sir. That’s... nice to see," Daniel muttered, forcing restraint. He wanted to ask about his face, the wheelchair, how the hell he’d survived, or how he was even functioning after killing his wife—but he bit it back.

Ricardo’s eyes bored into him. He tilted his head, making a guttural growl that sounded like a creature straight from a horror movie. His jaw was hanging loose, nearly falling off—but somehow held together by a miracle. No living tissue could do that, at least not by Daniel’s understanding.

God, this man really did live through hell.

"Stop gawking," Ricardo rasped, "or I might tell Matt that I’m uncomfortable with your look. And trust me—he’d love to finish you up."

Daniel froze. The man could still talk? Even when his face was practically begging to fall apart? Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d seen worse.

"I know what you’re dying to ask," Ricardo continued, rolling closer until he was just a few inches away.

"How did I get this despicable mark on my face?" Ricardo grinned, and Daniel’s heart nearly skipped a beat. That jaw moved in a grotesque, jerking motion, his eyes goggling like something alive and wrong.

"You see, that earthquake buried me under debris. But thanks to Matt, I was saved. And he didn’t forget to mention how you pushed him out of the building."

Daniel’s breath caught. Matt survived? He thought he’d died along with Adrian’s sister—what was her name again? The poor girl with the serious injuries. May her soul rest in peace.

"But with this reunion," Ricardo went on, "the same pain you inflicted on my wife will be passed to you."

He clicked his wheelchair and rolled away, leaving Daniel staring after him, throat parched.

He swallowed hard. "Could I at least get a drink?" he asked weakly—only to receive a cold, hard glare from the old man nearby.

Well, it was worth a try.

When the old man left, silence filled the alley. Daniel grew restless. If it were a rope, he might’ve tried something—but this was a chain, locked with a key far out of reach. Smart move, Matt. He’d give him that.

Still, he wasn’t staying here forever. One way or another, he’d get the hell out.

Time crawled. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours. He’d never been this still before; it was maddening.

Then—a shadow moved behind him.

He turned his head, squinting. The figure stumbled forward and fell flat, the crack of a stick snapping against flesh making Daniel flinch.

The person groaned. His blood ran cold when he recognized the familiar clothing. Panic set in.

If he could move, he’d have rushed to help. Instead, he could only scrape the chair backward, trying desperately to get closer—but it wouldn’t budge.

Speak of the devil—Matt Valez appeared, striding in with a long metal rod in hand and a sadistic smile on his face.

The heavy plank on the fallen figure shifted, and when it moved, Daniel’s heart shattered.

Alexander.

He was nailed to the plank through both hands and legs, blood gushing out in sickening streams.

Daniel’s eyes widened in horror. The once-charismatic man was gone, replaced by a broken, bleeding shell.

"Alexander! Can you hear me? What happened?" Daniel cried out.

The man groaned faintly, twitching, his voice gone.

This was unspeakable. Who could do something so monstrous to another human? Your background, your pain—it didn’t excuse this.

Matt’s voice cut through the air like a blade. "Like the surprise I left for you, Daniel Lancaster?"

That dark tone sent chills crawling up Daniel’s spine.

"Don’t look so shocked. News is flying around that you’re a conniving bitch. Your father’s exposed you—not only as a bastard but as an omega. How shocking, huh?"

Daniel’s face drained of color. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. He’d done everything to prevent this—everything.

Only a few people knew. His closest companions... the doctor... but she wouldn’t. That left his family. They were the only ones who could.

"How? You’re lying! You just want to break me, but it’s not going to work," Daniel hissed, eyes blazing.

Matt only laughed and clapped slowly. Then he walked to the plank and raised it upright. Daniel nearly vomited at the sight—Alexander hanging like some grotesque sacrifice, blood pooling beneath him.

"I never really got to talk to you," Matt said, stepping closer. "My brother always hijacked your attention. Guess I get you to myself now."

He reached out, trailing a hand along Daniel’s cheek.

"Damn, your skin’s so nice... almost ethereal. No wonder you—AAAHHHH!"

His scream tore through the air as Daniel bit into his hand, tearing out flesh. Blood smeared across Daniel’s lips as he spat.

"That’s for everything you did to my friend," he snarled with a grin.

Matt roared and slapped him hard enough to rattle his head, clutching his bleeding hand.

"You’ll pay for that," he hissed. "Tonight, I’ll fuck you, butcher you, and send you to your husband in pieces. Let’s see what’s so special about you that makes men lose their minds."

Daniel glared, hatred burning in his eyes.

Matt pulled out his phone. "Since you’re lost, let me show you what happened. Your husband’s finished—and so are you."

He pressed play.

The video showed Alessandro and Angelo outside their mansion, surrounded by reporters.

"So you’re saying Daniel Moretti is your son?" a woman asked.

Alessandro took the mic, eyes cold. "That weak cunt isn’t mine. My wife deceived me—made me raise another man’s child for years."

The reporters gasped.

"He isn’t mine and never will be. I don’t raise male omegas," he added coldly.

The crowd went wild, reporters shouting questions.

"Male omega—Daniel Lancaster, as it turns out, is a male omega in disguise who tried to climb the social ladder at all costs," one reporter narrated.

"Would you ever take him back?" another asked.

"I’d rather die than accept that weak object. My only wish is that he died," Alessandro spat.

Daniel’s breath hitched, vision blurring. He felt his world collapse. Online, chaos exploded—his followers plummeting from 75 million to 30.4 million, and still dropping.

Matt grinned as he scrolled. "Look at that. Watching you fall is almost entertaining."

But amidst the chaos, a few voices rose online:

"And so he’s a male omega, but aren’t they humans too?"

The comment gained traction, others joining in.

"#SaveDaniel — Don’t let them consume him."

The protest spread like wildfire.

Matt’s face soured at the sight. No matter what, that fucker wasn’t leaving alive tonight.