Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 128

Chapter 128

The faint glow from the windows was the only source of light in the room, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. My heart pounded fiercely against my chest, each beat echoing loudly in the silence.

If I were discovered here, I thought with a surge of panic, I wouldn’t have the strength of a wolf left to break free. A cold shiver ran down my spine as fear tightened its grip around me.

Without hesitation, I moved swiftly across the room toward the hidden door I had noticed earlier, tucked discreetly beside the bookshelf. Pressing my ear against the cold wood, I strained to catch any noise from the other side. There was nothing—only silence. Slowly, I turned the handle, relief flooding me when it opened smoothly, no resistance, no alarm.

Beyond the door stretched a narrow corridor dimly lit by a faint, flickering light. At the far end, another door stood slightly open, a sliver of pale light leaking through the crack.

I whispered softly, activating the recording feature on my earring, “I’m in the passage. Approaching the library now.”

I crept forward cautiously, placing each step with care to avoid the telltale creak of old floorboards. As I drew closer to the end of the corridor, muffled voices became audible. I adjusted the earring’s sensitivity to catch every word.

“About to make contact with the target,” I breathed under my breath.

The library door was ajar just enough for me to peer inside without being noticed. I found a concealed spot behind a towering bookshelf, allowing me a clear view of the room’s center while remaining hidden.

Inside, small groups of people were arriving, all converging toward a large, round table in the middle. I counted twelve individuals, each adorned with some variation of the triangular symbol. My breath caught when I saw Rocco being guided to a seat by an elderly man who spoke to him with a mixture of respect and authority, clearly issuing instructions.

I studied every face meticulously, committing them to memory as my earring captured everything. A chill ran through me when I recognized several familiar figures: Dr. Walker, the medical center’s director who had mingled with guests earlier; Senator Rhodes, distinguished by his triangular cufflinks; and Dr. Eliza Mills, the woman wearing a triangle pendant necklace.

What shocked me most was the presence of high-ranking government officials—people who wielded genuine power.

Those eyes—sharp, calculating, and hauntingly familiar.

I saw the flicker of surprise cross Rocco’s face before it hardened into something darker—controlled fury, perhaps? His hands clenched tightly at his sides, knuckles pale with tension. The others lowered their heads slightly in deference, but Rocco remained stiff, clearly battling a powerful emotion.

The masked woman’s voice, distorted by some device, commanded the room’s attention as she addressed the group, outlining progress and future plans. A cold wave of realization washed over me.

I knew her. Not her name or identity, but I had seen her before—three years ago on that cliff, overseeing what was supposed to be my death. The same crimson mask, the same piercing eyes that had watched impassively as I fell toward the jagged rocks below.

My body froze, shock rooting me to the spot. It was her—the mastermind behind everything: my “death,” perhaps my father’s condition, maybe even the attacks on other wolves.

“It’s her,” I breathed, barely able to form the words. “The woman from the cliff… she’s the one pulling the strings.”