Aria's POV
"She doesn't belong here."
The words floated from behind a glass wall. I paused just outside the corridor that curved around the executive wing.
My fingers tightened around the coffee tray, heart stuttering. I knew that voice—sharp as stilettos, always dipped in venom.
Tessa Rowe.
"Little brat drops out of college and suddenly thinks she can walk the halls of Westin like she earned it? Damon should've demoted her. Better yet, fired her."
I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the heat building in my chest. She wasn't even whispering. She wanted people to hear her. Wanted me to hear her.
"Celeste might be gone," she muttered to herself, spinning a pen in her manicured fingers, "but I'll finish what she started. That girl won't last a week. Not with me around."
I walked past the glass without looking in, holding my head high. But inside? I was shaking.
