Little Caesar knelt on his bruised knees, holding onto the hem of his mother's dress.
"I-I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. I'll do whatever you want, Mother. Please love me like you love Roman. I'll be like Roman, I'll do-"
But the woman hit him and pushed him to the floor. "Get off me!" She glared at him as if he were filth, and Caesar lay there on the floor, crying.
"I'm sorry," was all he kept muttering, his small hands balled into fists.
"I don't love you, and I never will. You don't need love, and you don't deserve love. A lot was sacrificed just to have you, and you should be grateful for that," the mother said, scoffing. "At this rate, you would end up being a whiny supreme alpha and nothing like your father. Who knows if you will manifest as a recessive one? I'd kill you with my own hands if you do!"
