Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me (by Sherry) novel Chapter 51

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I understood immediately. They wanted to place me in the boardroom as a watchdog, a beautiful, intelligent

barrier against any low–born she–wolves who might try to claw their way up.

In my past life, I would have viewed this as a burden. Now, I saw it for what it was: access. Access to

company accounts, access to sensitive files, and a legitimate power base independent of Daemon’s bedroom.

“I would be honored, Dominic,” I said, meeting his gaze evenly. “I think it’s time I took a more active role in

the family legacy.”

***

Victoria fussed over me as I tightened the straps of my saddlebags, ensuring the heavy load wouldn’t shift

on the winding roads back to the city.

“Now, I had the kitchen staff vacuum–seal everything so it would fit in your pack,” she said, watching

anxiously as I swung my leg over the heavy motorcycle. “There’s venison from yesterday’s hunt, some wild

boar, and all the organic vegetables from the greenhouse tucked in there.”

“Thank you, Victoria. I’ll make sure we eat it.”

The drive back to our marital home was uneventful. When I arrived, I called for Ruby.

The older woman came rushing from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Luna! You’re back! We

didn’t know when to expect you.”

“Help me unload the car, Ruby. Victoria sent enough game meat to feed an army.”

Together, we hauled the heavy cooler into the kitchen. I instructed her to portion out the boar for the

freezer, but to keep the venison out.

“Make a soup,” I said, leaning against the marble island. “Slow–cooked with pine nuts and herbs. I’m craving

something earthy.”

Ruby nodded enthusiastically as she set a large pot on the stove.

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“Does your daughter have a taste for venison?” I asked, leaning casually against the marble island. “We have

far more than Daemon and I can finish. You should pack a thermal container for her to take back to

campus.”

Ruby paused mid–chop, a sheepish, apologetic smile touching her lips as she shook her head. “That is so

kind of you, Luna, truly. But I shouldn’t bother. Celeste… well, she’s terribly picky. That’s why she’s so tiny. I

keep praying she’ll put on a little weight.

***

We were sitting down to dinner when the front door slammed open.

Daemon appeared in the archway of the dining room. He was wearing a dark charcoal suit, his tie loosened,

and his hair slightly disheveled, as if he had run his hands through it in frustration.

He stopped, staring at me. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be here. He had likely seen Sienna’s Instagram

post from four days ago and assumed I was still gone.

He walked into the room, the tension radiating off him in waves. He pulled out the chair at the head of the

table–opposite me–and sat down. Ruby, sensing the dangerous mood, quickly hurried over with a bowl and

a spoon, placing them before him with trembling hands before retreating to the safety of the kitchen.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Immensely,” I said. “Good food, fresh air, no drama. It was revitalizing.”

He scoffed, a short, sharp sound. He looked at the soup in front of him, the steam curling up in inviting

ribbons. He was a wolf; the scent of high–quality, spiritually rich meat was irresistible. Despite his mood, he

picked up the spoon and took a mouthful.

I watched him. I saw the moment the rich, gamey flavor hit his tongue. His shoulders dropped a fraction of

an inch. The tension in his jaw relaxed.

He ate in silence for a few minutes.

“This is good,” he muttered, almost grudgingly. “Where did you get the meat? The butcher in town doesn’t

carry grade–A venison like this.”

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“It’s from the hunt at the Old Manor,” I said casually, breaking a piece of crusty bread. “Your mother packed

it for me. She was worried we weren’t eating enough.”

Daemon’s spoon froze halfway to his mouth.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered the spoon back into the bowl with a soft clink. The relaxation vanished from

his posture, replaced by a rigid, razor–sharp alertness. He looked up at me, his eyes narrowing into slits, the

dark irises swirling with suspicion.

“You went to see my parents,” he said. His voice was low, dangerous.

“I did.”

“Why?” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Why the sudden pilgrimage to the ancestral

home, Violet?”

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