Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me (by Sherry) novel Chapter 164

Chapter 164

Violet’s POV:

Celeste walked directly toward my desk.

“Violet,” she said, her voice carrying that sweet, genuine quality I remembered. “Daemon said you’ve been

having stomach issues. I made you something light and nutritious.”

She set the insulated bag on my desk with a soft thud.

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“Thank you,” I said coolly. “But I don’t need it.”

Linda chose that exact moment to walk past, returning from the break room with a coffee cup. She stopped

dead when she saw Celeste, her face draining of all color. The cup trembled in her hand, coffee sloshing

dangerously close to the rim.

“You…” Linda’s voice came out strangled, barely above a whisper. “You’re Morrison’s daughter?”

Celeste turned, surprise clear on her young face. “Yes. Do you know me?”

Linda drew in a sharp breath, her knuckles white around the coffee cup. For a moment, I thought she might

drop it. Then she forced her features into something resembling a professional expression, though her eyes

remained haunted.

“Violet, the meeting starts in ten minutes,” Linda said tightly.

She walked away before either of us could respond, her shoulders rigid with tension.

Celeste watched her go, confusion creasing her brow. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” I said shortly. “She’s just busy.”

I turned back to my computer, hoping Celeste would take the hint and leave. Instead, she settled into the

visitor’s chair beside my desk, pulling out her phone.

“I’ll wait,” she said pleasantly. “Just in case you change your mind about lunch.”

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17:19 Mon, Jun 8

Chapter 164

I bit back my irritation and focused on finishing my report. Let her wait. It wasn’t my responsibility to

manage her time or feelings.

Fifteen minutes later, as I was gathering materials for the meeting, Celeste’s phone rang. Her whole

demeanor changed instantly, lighting up like someone had switched on a lamp inside her.

“Daemon!” Her voice went sweet and syrupy. “I’m at Violet’s office right now…”

I paused in collecting my files, watching her from the corner of my eye. She twirled a strand of honey-

blonde hair around her finger, her smile soft and adoring as she listened to whatever Daemon was saying on

the other end.

Does she know? I wondered coldly. Does she know she’s just another Aurora replacement? Does she know

Daemon doesn’t love her for who she is, but for the ghost she resembles?

If she knew the truth, would she still sit there smiling like that? Or would she spend five years the way I

did, desperately trying to become someone else, someone worthy of love that was never really meant for

her?

“I have a lunch meeting,” I said, cutting through her phone conversation. “You can go now.”

Celeste covered the phone’s microphone, her expression briefly hurt. “Oh. Okay. But the food-”

“Leave it.” I picked up my bag and walked away, leaving the insulated container sitting on my desk like an

accusation.

The meeting dragged on longer than expected. By the time it ended, my stomach was growling and the mild

nausea I’d been fighting all morning had returned with a vengeance. I needed food, but not whatever

Celeste had brought.

I grabbed my coat from my desk–the insulated bag still sat there, untouched—and headed for the elevator.

The lunch rush was in full swing, the lobby crowded with employees heading out for their break.

The revolving door spat me out onto the front steps, and I stopped short.

Daemon leaned against a black SUV parked at the curb, arms crossed over his chest, his blood–red eyes fixed

directly on me.

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Chapter 164

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Before I could decide whether to acknowledge him or just walk past, rapid footsteps sounded behind me.

“Daemon!” Celeste burst through the doors like an enthusiastic puppy, practically throwing herself into his

arms. “What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

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She buried her face against his chest, her bandaged hand clutching his jacket. Daemon’s arms came up

automatically to steady her, but his eyes remained on me, unreadable.

A Benz pulled up to the curb, and Beck emerged from the driver’s side, a thermal lunch box in his hands.

His timing was either perfect or terrible, depending on perspective. His eyes found mine immediately, then

shifted to Daemon with clear recognition and something harder.

The air between us all turned thick and tense. Several passing employees slowed their pace, sensing drama.

Beck walked up the steps, moving with deliberate confidence, and reached for my hand. His fingers were

warm and steady as they laced through mine.

“With me,” Beck said smoothly. “Come on, our reservation’s in fifteen minutes. We should go.”

Daemon’s eyes fixed on our joined hands like they were something obscene. His jaw clenched hard enough

that I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.

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