Free Web NovelChapter 162: Chapter 162 The Drop-In
Christina’s POV
"Square your shoulders. Widen your stance. Don’t lock your elbows," the firearms instructor barked.
I gritted my teeth, adjusting my grip on the Glock 19. The weight felt foreign in my hands, nothing like the delicate jewelry tools I was accustomed to.
"Focus on your breathing, Mrs. Laurent. Inhale, aim, exhale, squeeze."
The gun kicked back harder than I expected, the report echoing painfully in my ears despite the protective headphones. My shot landed nowhere near the target’s center.
Hudson stood at the back of the range, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. This was the fifth day of my "essential training"—his non-negotiable condition before allowing me to return to work. Five days of sore muscles, ringing ears, and bruised pride.
"Again," the instructor commanded.
I raised the gun, picturing Beatrice’s smug face on the paper target. My next shot hit much closer to the bullseye.
"Better," Hudson said approvingly.
By the end of the session, my certificate was signed and my permit application processed. Alpha privileges.
"Satisfied?" I asked, massaging my aching wrist.
Hudson’s eyes glinted with pride. "Yeah, you’re a faster learner than I expected."
Finally, I got my freedom to work back. Of course, Hudson also placed a gun in my studio and gave me strict instructions that if anything like that happened again, protecting myself came first.
I really hoped nothing like a mob attack would happen again.
The studio air tasted like freedom, and this work was everything I’d dreamed of. After days of confinement, being surrounded by my designs felt like coming home.
I ran a lint-free cloth over a strand of pearls, the clasp making a satisfying click each time I adjusted its position. The pearls were flawlessly round and warm to the touch.
This was Ysolde’s custom order for her cousin Rachel Stone’s wedding gift. I’d met Rachel twice—a woman with an infectious smile that could light up any room.
Her wedding was in two days. I was preparing to send her a matching jewelry set, including necklace and earrings. The earrings were already boxed, and I’d just removed the necklace from the beading board ten minutes ago.
Ysolde wanted Rachel to wear these pieces down the aisle, so I planned to have Daniel deliver the package before lunch.
The bell above the studio door chimed. I looked up from my workbench.
Light footsteps.
I was on the mezzanine level, half-crouched over my tray. Setting down the necklace, I stood and brushed my palms against my apron.
Below me, Priya was greeting the walk-in customer.
"Good afternoon, miss. Are you here to discuss a commission?"
"No, I’m looking for Christina."
I froze in my tracks.
Even after months without hearing it, I’d never forget that voice. ƒгeewёbnovel.com
Akira bristled inside me. "How dare she show up?"
I could understand Akira’s anger. If it weren’t for Beatrice and Niall’s prolonged affair, Akira wouldn’t have suffered far more pain than usual when our mate bond shattered. Akira also wouldn’t have lost her keen sense of smell and her ability to sense potential future mates.
Sigh, but since I’m currently in a "whatever happens, happens" mode about finding a new mate, I felt more wariness than anger toward Beatrice right now.
I wondered what twisted scheme my dear sister had cooked up this time.
Beatrice’s voice sounded strange, as if her throat had gone dry halfway through speaking.
I crept to the railing and peered down. From my elevated vantage point, I could see everything.
Her skin had a grayish tinge. Her lips were colorless. Her center of gravity seemed to shift every few seconds, as if she couldn’t maintain her posture.
I stared at her belly.
No obvious bump was visible, but something felt off. My heightened wolf senses detected the faint, salty-metallic scent of blood – barely there, but unmistakable.
I raised one hand, signaling quickly to Daniel.
He stood at the end of the mezzanine, tablet in one hand, croissant in the other, frowning at my gesture.
I pointed to him, then to my phone, then to Beatrice.
Understanding dawned. He stuffed the croissant into his mouth and activated our studio’s surveillance system. I motioned for him to record.
Once Daniel started recording, I slowly descended the stairs.
Priya, kind-hearted as always, reached out to steady Beatrice’s elbow.
"You look a bit unwell. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get Christina."
"Priya, don’t touch her!" I called out. "She’s pregnant. Stay back."
Priya halted mid-step, hand still half-raised, and quickly retreated.
She looked startled, glancing up at me with an expression that conveyed confusion and politeness, but too embarrassed to ask what the hell was going on.
Beatrice’s hand moved to her abdomen as if magnetized, pressing protectively.
Her face paled even further. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
I walked down the stairs but stopped suddenly, maintaining a two-meter distance between us.
"What do you need?"
Beatrice managed a tight smile, her lips barely moving. "Nothing urgent. I was passing by and thought I’d stop in... maybe get some water."
Right. Because the woman who stole my former mate and hated my guts would just casually drop into my jewelry store for water.
Her tone was placating, almost submissive.
It was surreal. Typically, Beatrice treated me like something she’d scrape off her designer boots after a walk through the dog park.
Priya’s gaze darted between us, probably wondering why I looked like I was about to call an exorcist rather than welcome a visitor.
I didn’t move closer.
"We just finished renovations. Nothing’s fully stocked yet. No water, no snacks."
Beatrice’s smile twitched. She nodded as if understanding, but didn’t back away.
"I just wanted to see how you’re doing. Niall and I are married now. That’s all in the past. I don’t consider you an enemy."
"Whether you consider me an enemy or not is irrelevant to me," I said. "But there’s still no water, and we’re working. Are you finished?"
Beatrice stepped forward.
I stepped back.
Her heel scraped against the tile.
My shoulder bumped the edge of a shelf.
We both paused.
Beatrice smiled again. "I heard you opened a new studio and came specifically to congratulate you."
"Message received. The door is that way."
"I’ve been walking for hours. Could I rest here a bit longer?"
"What, Niall couldn’t arrange a driver for you? No nanny? And why are you wandering around town with a baby bump in the dead of winter anyway?"
She stopped moving.
She lowered her head.
Two tears slid down her cheeks.
"I didn’t come here to fight," she whispered. "Why are you being so hostile?"
"I’m not. Don’t twist my words. I just find it strange that you’re wandering around town pregnant. My place has no water and no heat. Go home."
Her complexion was frighteningly pale, nearly gray.
Another tear fell.
My scalp prickled with unease.
