Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 181

Chapter 181

Kira’s Perspective:

I stood near the living room window, my ears straining to catch even the faintest sound of a car approaching. The quiet was almost suffocating until, finally, the low growl of an engine sliced through the silence. My heart skipped a beat, then began racing uncontrollably—Rocco was back.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, my mind racing through possible plans and responses. My palms grew clammy as I crossed my arms tightly, trying desperately to keep my composure despite the storm brewing inside me.

The haunting image of that glass chamber in the hidden room flashed unbidden in my mind—the body suspended in that eerie blue liquid, a face identical to mine staring blankly back. My stomach churned at the memory. What kind of twisted obsession could compel someone to keep something like that? And what had Dominic said earlier? That Rocco visited “her” every night? The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

Taking a slow, steadying breath, I reminded myself that I couldn’t let Rocco know I’d uncovered his dark secret just yet. Not until I fully understood the nightmare I was stepping into.

My injured ankle throbbed sharply as I shifted my weight, but I refused to sit down. I wouldn’t show weakness—not when he walked through that door.

The sound of the front door opening jolted me with adrenaline. I turned my head slightly, keeping my posture stiff as Rocco entered the room. His face was a complex mask—exhaustion mingled with something else I couldn’t quite place.

Our eyes locked, and for a tense moment, silence hung heavy between us, thick with unspoken accusations and hidden truths.

Rocco was the first to break the quiet, moving toward the sofa. “Sit down, Kira. We need to talk.”

“I’d rather stand,” I replied coldly, even as my ankle screamed in protest.

“Please,” he said softly, his voice carrying a rare gentleness. “Your ankle needs rest.”

Reluctantly, I limped over to the far end of the sofa, putting as much distance between us as possible. Even this small concession felt like surrender.

“I’ve handled the situation outside,” Rocco began. “Your team is safe.”

My head snapped up. “What did you do to Andy and the others?”

“Answer me,” I pressed, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “What is that thing? Did you kill Kim?”

Rocco lowered his head, shame etched deeply into his posture. When he finally met my gaze again, his expression was painfully vulnerable.

“When I thought you were gone,” he began slowly, “I lost myself completely. The grief was unbearable. I couldn’t accept that you were really gone.”

My throat tightened as he continued, his voice trembling.

“I searched everywhere—any ritual, any ancient knowledge that might let me hold on to some part of you. I found records of an old werewolf ritual that could… preserve essence.”

“What does that mean?” I asked sharply, unable to hide the edge in my voice.

“I had… samples of your wolf’s DNA. From before,” he explained, looking away. “The ritual allowed me to create a physical form, but it was never alive. It has no consciousness, no soul. It’s just… a shell.”