Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 216

Flame Vow 216

The violent shaking threw me against the wall as concrete and dust rained down between me and Rocco. My heart lodged in my throat as I watched him disappear behind the collapsing section of ceiling, swallowed by a cloud of debris.

“Rocco!” I screamed, but the groaning of the dying building drowned out my voice.

1 steadied myself against the wall, coughing as dust filled my lungs. My eyes watered, making it hard to see in the dim emergency lighting. I needed to focus, to think clearly despite the panic clawing at my chest.

First things first–check my equipment. My flashlight still worked, thank god. The communication device Andy had given me was intact, though the screen had cracked in the commotion. I pulled it out, my fingers trembling slightly.

“Rocco, can you hear me?” All I got back was crackling static with occasional fragments of sound. “Rocco?” Nothing useful. The signal was garbage in this concrete deathtrap.

I took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of worry. Rocco had mentioned an emergency exit down the left corridor before we got separated. That was my best option now.

I pushed myself forward, but the moment I put weight on my left foot, a sharp pain shot up from my ankle. “Damn it,” I hissed through gritted teeth. Must have twisted it when I nearly fell into that hole earlier. The hole Rocco had pulled me back from…

Why am I even worried about him? The thought came unbidden, bitter and sharp. After everything he’s done, why do I still care if he’s safe?

Yet here I was, heart racing with concern. The irony wasn’t lost on me–once again fighting for survival while still emotionally tangled with someone who’d betrayed me. Some lessons I just couldn’t seem to learn.

I limped down the corridor, following faded emergency signs, each step sending pain up my leg. The flashlight beam cut through the darkness, revealing fallen ceiling tiles and exposed wiring. This place was coming down fast.

Turning a corner, I noticed something unexpected–a door standing ajar with a faint blue glow coming from inside. Weapon ready, I approached cautiously.

It was some kind of office, remarkably intact compared to the collapsing hallways. A desk with a computer still running, its screen displaying what looked like security camera feeds from throughout the building.

I slipped inside and closed the door, my heart skipping as I realized what I’d found. This could show me a way out–or where Rocco was.

Scanning the monitors, I found him almost immediately. He was in what appeared to be a data center, examining some papers. The relief that flooded through me was embarrassingly intense, followed immediately by irritation at myself for caring so much.

“Focus,” I muttered, searching the other feeds for an exit route.

My attention caught on a screen labeled “Lab B.” Something about the movement inside made me pause. The lab looked recently used- equipment powered on, papers scattered across workstations. But what made my skin crawl was what hung on the walls: photographs. Of me. Of Rocco. Of my father.

I clicked on that feed to enlarge it, then noticed the recordings option. With trembling fingers, I accessed the recent history.

There she was- Lyra. Working methodically in the lab, handling blood samples, operating equipment I didn’t recognize. In one clip, she stood before a mirror, mimicking.. my expressions. My mannerisms. The way I pushed hair behind my ear. The slight head tilt I did when

thinking.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, nausea rising in my throat.

Another recording showed her examining my photos intently, studying them from every angle. Then practicing my walk, my gestures, my

smile.

Fear gripped me as I scanned the live feeds again. That’s when I saw it—a figure moving through the hallway near the data center. I zoomed in, my heart stopping. Rocco. And approaching him from behind was another person. Someone with my face, my walk, my clothes.

“Shit!” I slammed my palm against the wall. “Come on!”

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