Chapter 69: Chapter 68

Katrina’s POV

Madame Levigne’s eyes bore into me as I wiped down the counter. Her curiosity was relentless, but I kept my head down, hoping she’d lose interest.

“You’re so mysterious, Mae. What was your job in your previous pack?” she asked, her tone too casual to be genuine.

“Nothing, Madame,” I said quickly. “Please, I have so many orders to take.”

Her silence didn’t feel like agreement, but I seized the opportunity to escape and headed to a table to take their order. That’s when the doorbell chimed, and I froze mid-step.

Standing at the entrance was Rosie, holding hands with a man who made my stomach churn. Archer.

“What are you doing?!” I demanded, hurrying over.

Archer’s expression was infuriatingly calm as he tilted his head at me. “Uhm, who are you?”

My jaw dropped. “What?! You know who I am!”

He leaned in slightly, his voice a low whisper. “I thought we were playing the role of not knowing each other, hm?”

My fists clenched, but I forced myself to stay composed. “Rosie, come here. With Mama. Now.”

Rosie shook her head, her grip on Archer’s hand tightening. “No, Mom! Daddy Archer is cool. He buys me things!”

“What?! Daddy?!” Madame Levigne’s voice rang out from behind me, loud enough for everyone in the pizzeria to hear.

Heat surged up my neck as the room went dead silent.

Archer smirked, his gaze steady on mine. “If you don’t want to cause any more commotion, might as well come with us. My men are waiting outside.”

I hesitated, my mind racing, but the growing attention left me no choice. With trembling hands, I untied my apron, tossed it on the counter, and followed them out to a sleek black van parked at the curb.

Inside, silence hung thick as the three of us sat together.

“Rosie, he’s not your daddy,” I said firmly, trying to regain some control.

Rosie pouted, her big eyes glancing between me and Archer. “But he told me you and Daddy Archer were mates before!”

My breath caught. My head snapped to Archer, who sat there looking far too pleased with himself.

“You did… what?!” I shouted, my voice rising with anger. Without thinking, I swung and landed a punch squarely on his jaw.

Before I could process what I’d done, I felt the weight of countless eyes on me. Turning, I saw weapons aimed from every angle—his men.

“Do you all want to die?!” Archer bellowed, his voice filled with authority. “Put down your guns! There’s a kid in here!”

The tension crackled before they slowly lowered their weapons. I turned to Rosie, who had started crying, her small body trembling in my arms.

“It’s okay, baby,” I whispered, pulling her close and stroking her hair. “Mama’s here.”

Archer, for once, looked serious. “You need to trust me, Katrina. This is bigger than both of us.”

I glared at him, but my focus was on calming Rosie, her quiet sobs breaking whatever shred of resolve I had left.

Archer’s POV

I smirked at Katrina's reaction.

She still looks adorable when she’s angry.

“Hi, baby Rosie. Still doing okay there?” I asked, flashing her a warm smile.

“Yes!” Rosie nodded, her innocent grin lighting up the confined space.

Katrina immediately shielded Rosie’s eyes with her hand. “Don’t look into his eyes. He could manipulate you.”

The comment wiped the smile off my face, but I couldn’t resist needling her.

“So, Katrina, do you have a love of your life now? Where is he? I heard there’s a guy named Jordan—”

Her glare cut through me like a blade, sharp and unyielding, silencing me in an instant.

The air in the van grew heavy, tension crackling between us. Her scent drifted toward me, intoxicating and maddening.

Damn it, man.

Get it together. You can’t lose control here—not in front of my men, and definitely not in front of her child.

I shook the thoughts from my head, focusing on the task at hand. “So, about the—”

Before I could finish, a sharp, stinging pain exploded across my cheek. Katrina’s fist had found its mark, catching me completely off guard.

“What the fuck?!” I cursed, because it was so abrupt that I didn’t anticipate it.

She was the only person who could do that. Even my business enemies, I would know whether they would pull a gun or not.

Pain radiated through my nose as my head jerked back, and I instinctively cupped my face.

“Katrina?!” I groaned, leaning forward to check for damage. Sure enough, my hand came away with blood.

Rosie gasped beside me. “Mama, you hit Daddy Archer!”

Katrina huffed, clearly more irritated than apologetic. “Well, he deserved it.”

I tilted my head back, trying to stop the bleeding. “Deserved it? For what? Breathing?”

“For being you,” she shot back, crossing her arms and glaring at me like I’d personally ruined her day.

“Mama, say sorry,” Rosie piped up, her tiny voice tinged with concern.

Katrina sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Fine. I’m sorry, okay? But stop being so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” I groaned, pointing to my bloodied hand. “I’m bleeding here! You broke my nose or something.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible.” She leaned forward, grabbing tissues from the van’s console and shoving them at me.

I chuckled through the pain. “Careful, Katrina. If you’re this passionate now, I can only imagine what it’ll be like when we’re—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her glare sharp enough to kill.

We pulled into my driveway, and I got out of the van, still clutching my nose. Rosie skipped alongside us, completely unbothered by the chaos.

Once inside, I grabbed an ice pack while Katrina hovered awkwardly. The door opened, and Caleb stepped in, taking one look at me and then at Katrina.

“What happened?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

“She punched me,” I said, pointing accusingly at her.

“Ah... I punched him,” Katrina admitted, though she didn’t sound remotely sorry.

“Ouch,” I added, milking it for all it was worth. “Come on, don’t try to kill me.”

Caleb cleared his throat, clearly suppressing a laugh. “I’ll grab some water,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

Moments later, he returned, carrying an unnecessary spread of food. Rosie’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning, diving happily into fries and pizza. Meanwhile, Katrina perched on the edge of the couch, every muscle tense, as though she was ready to bolt at any second.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” I said, settling beside her with the ice pack still pressed to my nose.

“It’s over. We’re leaving now,” she announced abruptly, standing in one swift motion.

“My driver can take you,” I offered, striving for casualness.

“No,” she replied firmly. “My friend will pick us up.”

“But—”

“There’s no ‘but,’ Archer,” Katrina snapped, her voice like steel. “We’re leaving.”

I watched as she scooped Rosie into her arms and headed toward the door. Stubborn as ever. My curiosity got the better of me, and I followed her outside, eager to see this so-called “friend” of hers.

A motorcycle roared into the driveway, its engine rumbling before falling silent. The rider removed his helmet, revealing a sharp, rugged face.

“Katrina,” he greeted warmly, his gaze shifting briefly to Rosie before landing on me. Recognition flickered in his eyes, and he quickly dismounted.

“Alpha Archer,” he said, his voice steady but respectful. Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee.

I crossed my arms, studying him closely. “And you are?”

“Jordan,” he replied, keeping his head lowered. “Beta of the Ironclaw pack. I’m here to escort Katrina and Rosie safely.”

My frown deepened as my eyes drifted to the motorcycle. “You expect to fit all of you on that? It’s dangerous, especially with a child.”

Katrina rolled her eyes, her tone exasperated. “We’ve done this before, Archer. I can handle it.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Jordan added quickly, glancing between us. “I’ll ensure they get home safely.”

Reluctantly, I stepped back, tension twisting in my chest as Katrina climbed onto the bike with practiced ease. She positioned Rosie securely in front of her, her movements smooth and confident.

“Text me when you’ve arrived,” I said, directing the comment more to Rosie than to Katrina.

“Bye, Daddy Archer!” Rosie called, waving enthusiastically as the motorcycle’s engine roared back to life.

The bike sped off, disappearing down the road.

I remained rooted in place, watching until they vanished from sight. Caleb appeared at my side, breaking the silence.

“Boss,” he said, his tone low and serious. “The dealer is here, and I think he’s already seen Katrina. What should we do? They’ll be curious about her.”

I took a deep breath, my mind already racing. “Let them be curious. Sooner or later, I’ll announce that she’s my fated mate and will become the Luna of our pack. They will respect her.”

Caleb nodded. “Understood.”

I turned back toward the house, a determined smirk playing on my lips. “First thing to do,” I said, more to myself than to Caleb, “I’ll win her back, no matter what.”