Divorced by the Alpha, Claimed by the Rogue Chapter 95; Playing with fire

Alina’s POV

I breathed in the rich, comforting scent of vanilla and lted sugar, finally feeling a mont of peace. Returning to my bakery shop was the only way I could get out of that suffocating house without Ilya irritating the absolute hell out of . Here, I was in control.

"Boss?" one of my counter workers approached , looking nervous. "There’s a custor in the dining area complaining about her dessert. She’s demanding to et the owner personally."

I wiped my hands on my apron, letting out a soft sigh. "Alright. I’ll handle it."

I walked out to the floor and headed toward the booth. The mont I saw the woman sitting there, a cold, mocking smirk almost broke across my face.

Emily. Of course.

"Are you not tired of coming here and repeating the exact sa pattern?" I asked, crossing my arms as I stood over her table. "You co in, you complain about your dessert, you talk shit, and then you leave. You’re like a broken record, Emily."

Emily smirked, leaning back in her seat with a look of pure malice. "I just wanted to see you, Alina. I wanted to see how you’re faring, you know... considering your dearest Lucian already has a fiancée."

I let out a harsh, dry scoff, looking down at her. "And why do you care so much? I an, as long as Lucian doesn’t get to be with you, I am perfectly happy with whoever he ends up with."

The smug smile on Emily’s face faded away instantly, her jaw tightening.

I know it was you who tracked Ilya down and brought her to our borders, I thought coldly, keeping my expression entirely neutral. But I am never going to give you the satisfaction of seeing hurt.

"You won’t ever have Lucian again," Emily hissed, her voice dropping into a venomous whisper. "He is going to marry Ilya."

"And yet, you are the one who seems to be completely miserable and affected by it," I replied smoothly. I leaned in slightly, my voice dripping with icy calm. "I’ll give you a piece of advice for your own good, Emily. You should focus on the baby you’re carrying and stop sticking your nose into everyone else’s business. Keep playing these gas, and you’re going to get bitten."

Emily’s eyes flashed with pure annoyance, her chest heaving.

"If you have nothing better to do, leave," I commanded, stepping back. "From this exact mont on, you are officially banned from stepping foot in my shop."

Before she could even argue, I turned and called out to one of my floor managers. "Make sure this face never shows up here again. Get her out."

The sudden outburst caused several nearby custors to turn their heads, whispering and staring directly at our booth. Emily’s face flushed a deep, humiliated red as she realized she was making a scene.

She stood up violently, grabbing her purse. "You will regret this, Alina," she threatened through gritted teeth.

"The only one who is going to regret anything is you," I shot back, looking her dead in the eye. "You better watch your back, Emily."

Unable to take the embarrassnt of the staring crowd any longer, Emily turned on her heel and practically stord out of the bakery.

I turned to my staff mbers, my voice clear and authoritative. "I want everyone to stamp her face into your mory. Make sure Emily never shows up here again."

"Yes, Boss!" they answered uniformly.

Once my shift was finally over, I caught a cab back to the territory. The peace I had felt at the bakery vanished the exact mont I stepped foot back inside the pack house.

"Where the hell do you think you’re coming from?" Ilya’s voice barked from the archway.

I didn’t even look at her as I walked past. "It’s none of your business."

"I made it my business!" she snarled.

Before I could react, Ilya reached out, grabbing my wrist with supernatural strength. She violently dragged backward and shoved with all her might. I lost my balance, my hands scraping against the floorboards as I crashed hard onto the floor.

Inside my mind, my wolf bared her fangs, letting out a vicious, bloodthirsty sneer. Let tear her apart! Let kill her!

I forced a small, chilling smile onto my face, pushing myself up from the floor and dusting off my clothes. I looked at Ilya, my voice deadly quiet. "I don’t want any trouble with you, Ilya."

"How dare you leave this house?!" she scread, stepping directly into my space, her eyes wild with a manic rage. "Who was supposed to make my food if not you? And who did you leave your crying baby for?"

My body went completely rigid.

Ilya leaned in closer, a sickening, dark grin twisting her lips. "You know... his crying completely filled the house today. I really wouldn’t mind killing your child next ti he irritates ."

My eyes widened in absolute horror, a switch instantly flipping inside my soul. The maternal instinct overrode every single ounce of caution I had left. The temperature in the room seed to drop to sub-zero.

"You won’t do a single thing to my son," I whispered, my voice vibrating with a terrifying, absolute finality. I took a step toward her, forcing her to look into the eyes of a mother pushed to the edge. "If anything—even a single scratch—happens to my child, I will personally end your life. You have absolutely no idea what kind of monster I beco when it cos to protecting my son."

Ilya let out a jagged, mocking laugh, though her brow twitched slightly. "Do you really think you can scare , housemaid?"

"It’s not a threat," I growled, my face hardening into a dark, unyielding frown. "It’s a warning."

I turned around, intending to walk away to go check on Leo imdiately.

"I have had enough of you!" Ilya scread behind .

Before I could even spin around, she unscrewed a small vial and threw a strange, shimring liquid directly at my face.

The mont the substance made contact with my skin, it felt as though liquid fire had been poured onto my flesh. It actively began to sizzle, burning deep into my layers of skin.

A blood-curdling scream of pure, agonizing pain ripped out of my throat as I collapsed to my knees, clawing desperately at my face as it burns.