Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 175

Chapter 175

Kira’s Perspective:

My gaze remained locked on Rocco as he answered the phone, the tension in his face growing darker with every word exchanged. His jaw clenched subtly, and a shadow passed over his usually composed expression.

“I understand. I’ll head there right away,” he said, his voice sharp and businesslike. After ending the call, he stared out the window for a prolonged moment, lost in thought, before finally turning back toward me.

“I have to leave,” he said abruptly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “There’s an urgent matter demanding my immediate attention.”

I raised an eyebrow, my skepticism clear and unhidden. “How convenient,” I remarked dryly, unwilling to mask my doubt.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of seriousness replacing any trace of amusement. “This isn’t a game, Kira. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” He crossed the room in a few long strides, his towering presence looming over me. “Don’t even think about trying to leave. The security system here is state-of-the-art. Every exit is monitored, and the perimeter is guarded by silver sensors that will alert my team instantly.”

“So, in other words, I’m your prisoner,” I said bluntly, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice.

For a brief second, regret flickered across Rocco’s face, but it vanished too quickly to be certain. “Think of yourself as a protected guest,” he replied, then headed for the door. He paused at the threshold, looking back at me. “We’re far from finished with this conversation.”

The door shut behind him with a firm click, and the sudden silence in the room felt like a physical weight lifting off my chest. I drew in a deep breath, the first full one I’d taken since waking up in this place—this mansion that had once been my home.

I listened intently, following the sound of Rocco’s footsteps fading down the hall, then the distant creak of the front door opening, and finally the low rumble of an engine starting outside. Only when I was sure he was gone did I allow myself to relax, albeit just a little.

As I hobbled toward the shelf, memories threatened to rise: quiet evenings spent reading together, his voice low as he discussed business strategies, my head resting in his lap… I pushed the thoughts away mercilessly.

The bookshelf revealed nothing obvious at first, but as my fingers traced the spines, I noticed tiny symbols etched into the leather on certain volumes—small markings most people would overlook. I pulled one out and found pages of handwritten notes tucked inside, filled with strange codes and formulas I couldn’t decipher.

My search grew more focused as I moved through the room, opening drawers and cabinets. In Rocco’s desk, beneath a false bottom I recalled from years ago, I discovered a small brass key with an unusual shape. Turning it over in my palm, I wondered what secret it might unlock.

“This has to lead somewhere,” I muttered, slipping the key into my pocket.

My injured ankle protested loudly as I continued my exploration, but I forced myself to ignore the pain. Having lived here for three years, I knew the mansion’s layout intimately. There was one room in the east wing that Rocco always kept locked, insisting it was just storage for old family documents. Not once had he allowed me inside during all our time together.