Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Kira’s POV

My foot suddenly lost its grip on the slick, icy path leading up to the Blackwood mansion, and I felt myself beginning to topple forward. Just as I was about to crash onto the snow-laden ground, a firm hand shot out, gripping my arm tightly and halting my fall. The abrupt stop sent sharp jolts of pain radiating through my body, and a dizzy spell washed over me in waves.

“Careful,” Rocco muttered, his tone flat and lacking any genuine concern.

I looked up at him, my vision slightly blurred from the sudden dizziness. The instant our eyes locked, he pulled his hand away as if the contact had burned him. I nearly faltered again, my legs trembling beneath me, barely able to keep my balance.

The snow crunched softly beneath our feet as we trudged the short distance from the car to the mansion’s grand entrance. What should have been a simple walk felt more like an exhausting climb up a steep hill. Each step was a battle, my lungs burning with the effort. The moonlight reflected off the snow-covered garden, casting an ethereal silver glow over everything—a sight that once would have taken my breath away. Now, it only reminded me of all that I had lost.

Rocco stood motionless by the door, his golden hair shimmering faintly in the moonlight. His face was unreadable, expressionless as he watched me struggle forward.

“Not gonna lie,” he said with a smirk as I finally reached the steps, gasping for breath, “your acting’s gotten better.”

I didn’t have the strength to explain that this wasn’t a performance—that the syndrome was slowly draining me, stealing my strength day by day. Instead, I forced a weak laugh.

“Believe whatever you want,” I said, brushing past him and stepping inside the house that had once been our home.

Once inside, I shrugged off my heavy coat and hung it on the rack by the door. My body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as I made my way toward the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. The familiar surroundings only deepened the ache in my chest. I moved slowly to the living room and sank down onto the sofa, relief flooding through me as my limbs welcomed the rest.

“So,” I said, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, “are you going to divorce me or not?”

Rocco leaned casually against the doorframe, his eyes cold and calculating as they studied me. “I’ll tell you when we’re getting divorced,” he said flatly. “For now, you’re staying here.”

“What?” I nearly choked on my water. “I’m not staying here. I have my own place.”

“I said you’re staying here,” he repeated, his voice rising almost to a shout.

The room seemed to tilt around me. Why wouldn’t he just let me go? A storm of anger and fear raged inside me, but exhaustion kept me from showing either.

“You can’t do this,” I said, my voice weaker than I intended. “You have no right—”

“I have every right,” he interrupted sharply. “You’re still my Luna, whether you like it or not.”

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