The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 224: Chapter 224 What kind of things?

I woke to darkness pressing against the windows.

For a disorienting moment, I had no idea where I was. The unfamiliar weight of the blankets. The scent of cedar and something medicinal. Then it all came rushing back—the helicopter, the estate, Damian alive and bandaged in this bed beside me.

I’d fallen asleep.

My phone was vibrating insistently on the nightstand, screen lit up like a beacon in the dim room. I reached for it carefully, not wanting to wake Damian, and my heart sank when I saw the notification count.

Forty-three messages. Twelve missed calls.

*Damn it.*

I’d been so consumed with getting to Damian, so desperate to confirm he was alive, that I’d completely forgotten about everything else. The company. The projects. The people depending on me to keep things running smoothly while I was gone.

My fingers flew across the screen, scrolling through the backlog. Most were work-related—status updates, approval requests, the usual flood of information that came with running a business empire. But several stood out.

Four missed calls from Victor. Three from Jennifer.

And a string of messages from Victor that made my stomach twist with unease.

The first few had been recalled—deleted before I could read them. Whatever he’d initially wanted to say, he’d thought better of it. The final message was brief. Almost *too* brief.

[Project review might be delayed a few days. Don’t worry about it.]

Don’t worry about it.

As if that were possible.

The V&A Group was in the middle of launching a new pharmaceutical product—one of the most critical ventures we’d undertaken since I’d inherited the company.

The regulatory review process alone was a minefield of compliance checks and governmental oversight. One wrong move, one missed signature, and months of work could go up in smoke.

And I’d just handed temporary authority to Victor and walked away without a backward glance.

*How could I not worry?*

I understood why Victor had been cautious in his messages. Phone lines weren’t secure.

Pack politics meant everyone was watching everyone else, looking for leverage, for weakness, for any opening they could exploit.

But the timing felt wrong. Damian’s "accident" happens, and suddenly there are delays in my company’s most important project?

It couldn’t be a coincidence.

My thumb hovered over Jennifer’s messages next. She’d been more direct, less cautious. I could practically hear the worry in her typed words.

[Victor’s been meeting with Sylvia. Frequently. Please be careful.]