# Chapter 168

# Chapter 168
Kira's POV

I arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes early, needing time to collect my thoughts before meeting Rocco. The place was quiet, just a handful of people scattered among the wooden tables. I chose a corner booth with a good view of the entrance and ordered a latte, watching steam rise from the cup as I waited.

My phone buzzed with a text from Andy: "Let me know how it goes. I'm here if you need me." A small smile tugged at my lips. His steady support had become something I relied on more than I'd realized.

The bell above the door jingled, and my heart stuttered as Rocco walked in. He looked exhausted. His usually perfect suit was slightly rumpled, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. Despite this, he still commanded attention, his Alpha presence making a few patrons glance up instinctively.

His eyes found mine immediately. For a moment, he hesitated, and I saw vulnerability flash across his face before his expression settled into something more controlled. My fingers tightened around my mug as he approached.

"Thanks for meeting me," he said, sliding into the seat across from me.

"You said it was important," I replied, aiming for neutral but hearing the wariness in my voice.

Rocco signaled to the barista, who nodded in recognition. A regular, apparently. "Black coffee, please," he called before turning back to me.

I gestured to the empty chair. "Please sit. How did the meeting go?"

He sank into the chair with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "The family elders had a lot of questions about Lyra's consciousness being permanently sealed. Some even suggested trying to restore her."

My eyebrows shot up. "Really? Even after everything she did?"

Rocco shook his head. "Family bonds run deep. But I assured them the container's security measures are absolute." His expression darkened. "Rebecca designed the sealing system well. It's functioning perfectly."

I nodded, remembering the complex biometric locks and isolation protocols we'd implemented. "She did excellent work. Multiple biometrics, no external connections, physical isolation. Theoretically impossible to escape."

Rocco stared out the window, his profile sharp against the morning light. "Sometimes I wonder if being trapped in that small container forever is worse than death..."

The question hung between us, heavy with implications. I studied his face, trying to read his true feelings. "Do you regret that we didn't choose another way to deal with her?"

His eyes met mine, clear and direct. "No. It was the only way. She was too dangerous, but she's still my sister."

The barista brought his coffee, and Rocco thanked her with a tired smile. I watched him wrap his hands around the mug, noticing a new scar across his right knuckles—probably from our final confrontation with Ethan.

"Derek and I met yesterday," he said after taking a sip. "To be honest, it was much easier than I anticipated."

"Really?" I couldn't hide my surprise. "I thought it would be tense."

A small smile crossed his face. "Your father is a wise man. He said he understood Lyra's dangerous nature early on, just couldn't stop her."

I nodded slowly, processing this. "Yes, he told me he feels indirectly responsible for Lyra's death. He's carried that burden for years."

"We were all trapped in cycles of our own making," Rocco said quietly. "Derek, me, even Lyra."

I met his gaze directly. "And now? Lyra's contained, Ethan's been judged. The cycle of revenge is over."

Rocco took a deep breath. "Yes. It's time for a new beginning. That's why I wanted to see you, Kira."

My heart beat faster, and I forced myself to remain still, waiting for him to continue.

"I've been restructuring the Blackwood business interests," he explained, his voice taking on a more professional tone. "Moving away from some of the more... aggressive acquisitions of the past. Creating something healthier."

"That sounds positive," I said carefully.

"I'm working with the Council to establish better integration programs for younger werewolves," he continued. "And there's potential for collaboration with your father's resources once he's stronger."

I felt a spark of hope at the mention of my father's recovery. "He'd like that. He always believed in helping the next generation."

Rocco's expression softened. "I know. It's one of the things I've come to admire about him, despite our history."

The conversation paused as a group of laughing college students entered the café, momentarily filling the space with noise. When they settled at a table across the room, Rocco leaned forward, his voice lower.

"Kira, seeing Lyra's end taught me something important. Hate and manipulation ultimately destroy everyone involved. I chose a path of revenge, and it nearly cost me everything that actually matters."

My throat tightened. I knew where this was heading.

"I don't expect an immediate answer," he said gently. "But I needed to tell you that I understand now what I did wrong. I want to build something better—with the pack, with the business, with..." he hesitated, "with us, if you'd consider giving me—giving us—another chance."

I stared into my half-empty latte, feelings churning inside me. "Rocco, there's so much history between us. So much pain."

"I know," he acknowledged, not reaching for me like he might have once done. Instead, he gave me space, respecting my boundaries. "I'll give you all the time you need. Whatever decision you make, I'll respect it."

I looked up at him, studying his face. "And if I've already decided to move forward? If I've chosen Andy?"

Pain flashed across his features, but he controlled it quickly. "Then I would be hurt, but I would accept it. We all deserve the right to choose our own paths."

"You really have changed, haven't you?" I murmured, searching his eyes.

He offered a small, sad smile. "I hope it's toward something better. Whatever you choose, Kira, I just want you to find happiness. If that's with Andy, he's a good man. If..." he paused, vulnerability showing through his carefully maintained composure, "if you'd consider giving us a chance, I promise to cherish every day."

I considered his words carefully. "You did things that really hurt me, Rocco. You also saved me many times. I know Lyra greatly influenced your judgment, and I know you didn't listen to her when she wanted you to sacrifice me and erase my memories of our relationship." I took a deep breath. "Based on that, I will think carefully about us. I promise."

Rocco nodded, relief visible in his expression. "That's all I can ask for."

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of possibility between us. Part of me wanted to reach across the table and take his hand, while another part held back, remembering all we'd been through.

"I should go," I said finally, gathering my bag. "I promised to check on Kim this afternoon."

"How is she doing?" Rocco asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"Better. The separation was complete. She's... she's trying to rebuild her life."

He nodded, understanding the complexity in my tone. "And your mother?"

"That's... complicated," I admitted. "But we're talking. It's something."

As I stood to leave, Rocco remained seated, respecting my space. "Thank you for meeting me, Kira. For listening."

I paused, looking down at him. The morning light caught his profile, highlighting the weariness but also the strength I'd always admired. "I'm glad I came."

Walking out of the café, I felt lighter somehow. Not because I had answers—if anything, I had more questions than before—but because, for the first time in months, I felt like I truly had a choice.

Whatever path I chose would be my decision, not one forced by circumstances or manipulations.