I took a damp paper towel and cleaned away the dust. The physical pain was secondary. What mattered was the sequence of events I had just initiated. The silent call to my fixer, Arthur, was a pre-arranged signal. It meant: The observation phase is over. Begin the pressure campaign.
I was just unrolling my trousers when the locker room door swung open. It was Brenda, the headmaster’s secretary. She looked flushed and nervous.
"Evelyn," she said breathlessly. "Headmaster Vance needs to see you in his office. Immediately."
I paused. This was fast. Richard must have called his father, and his father must have called the school.
"Of course, Brenda," I said, letting my voice return to the raspy, subservient tone of the cafeteria lady. "I'll be right there."
I limped slightly as I followed her down the quiet, carpeted hallways of the administrative wing. The heavy oak doors of the headmaster's office loomed ahead. Brenda opened the door for me and quickly stepped away, not wanting to be involved.
I walked in.
Headmaster Vance, a sweating, portly man who wore suits that were slightly too tight, was standing nervously behind his massive mahogany desk. But he wasn't the one in charge.
Sitting in the leather guest chair, legs crossed casually, was Marcus Sterling.
Marcus was a man who radiated predatory wealth. He wore a bespoke charcoal suit, his silver hair perfectly styled, his eyes dark and calculating. He was Richard, thirty years older and infinitely more dangerous.
"Evelyn," Vance stammered, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to dab his forehead. "Please, uh, come in. Close the door."
I closed it. I stood near the door, clutching my hands together nervously. "Am I in trouble, sir? I'm so sorry about the parking lot. I didn't mean to be in the way of Mr. Sterling's car—"
"Drop the act," Marcus said. His voice was smooth, low, and incredibly hostile.
I stopped feigning a tremor, but I didn't completely break character. "Excuse me?"
Marcus stood up. He walked slowly around the desk, invading my personal space. He smelled of expensive cologne and cold coffee.
"My son called me," Marcus said quietly. "He said he had a little run-in with a cafeteria worker. He said she pulled out a satellite-encrypted comms device. Now, Richard is an arrogant fool, but he knows his tech. So, I asked Vance here to pull your employment file."
Marcus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a single photograph. He slapped it down hard on the edge of the desk.
"Your background check says you've been a food service worker your whole life," Marcus said, his eyes narrowing. "But I have a very good memory for faces, Evelyn. And I don't like being lied to in a school I essentially fund."
I looked down at the photograph. It was a candid shot from a charity gala thirty years ago. In the deep background, slightly blurred but undeniably me, I stood wearing a diamond necklace, laughing with my late husband.
My heart gave a heavy, rhythmic thump against my ribs. I had been careful, but Marcus was thorough.
"So," Marcus whispered, leaning in until I could feel the heat of his breath. "Who the hell are you really, Evelyn? And who sent you to spy on me?"
CHAPTER 2
The silence in the headmaster’s office felt thick enough to choke on. Headmaster Vance was visibly trembling by the window, his eyes darting between me and Marcus Sterling.
I stared down at the thirty-year-old photograph on the desk. My mind raced, calculating trajectories. If I revealed my true identity now—that I was Evelyn Vanguard, the primary lien holder of Marcus's entire real estate empire—the trap would spring too early. I didn't have the definitive proof of their embezzlement yet. I needed the digital transfer records. If Marcus knew who I was, he would destroy the servers within the hour.
I needed to feed him a lie that fit his own paranoia.
I let out a slow, rattling breath, forcing my shoulders to slump. I looked up at Marcus, letting genuine fear widen my eyes. Not fear of him, but fear of being caught.
"I... I didn't think anyone would ever recognize me from that night," I whispered, my voice trembling perfectly.
Marcus crossed his arms, looking triumphant. "So you admit the employment file is fake. Who do you work for? One of the old board members? Did Harrison hire a private investigator to dig into the construction contracts?"