CHAPTER 4
The basement corridor was dead silent except for the heavy, panicked breathing of the security guard.
His hand shook violently as he held his radio. The two men behind him exchanged confused glances, stepping forward, hands resting on their utility belts.
“Hey, Miller,” one of the backup guards said. “What is it? Just cuff the janitor.”
“Shut up,” the lead guard hissed, his face completely pale in the ambient blue light of the server room. He slowly lowered his radio, his eyes locked onto mine with absolute terror.
He recognized me. But not because he worked for Arthur Sterling.
“You’re… you’re the CEO,” the guard stammered.
I looked at the badge on his chest. It didn't bear Arthur’s company logo. It bore the crest of Blackwood Security—the private military contractor firm.
The firm that Vanguard Holdings had purchased eighteen months ago.
He didn't work for Arthur. He worked for me. Headmaster Davis had outsourced the school’s security to the lowest corporate bidder, entirely unaware that the parent company was mine.
I took a slow, deliberate step forward. I didn't look like a frail janitor anymore.
“What is your name, officer?” I asked, my voice echoing coldly off the brick walls.
“Miller, Ma’am,” he swallowed hard. “David Miller.”
“Officer Miller,” I said, my tone flat and commanding. “You are currently holding a weapon on the majority shareholder of the company that issues your paycheck. Does your manual cover this protocol?”
“No, Ma’am,” he whispered, quickly holstering his stun gun. He snapped to attention, elbowing his confused partners to do the same. “We… Headmaster Davis told us there might be corporate espionage tonight. He ordered a full sweep. We thought you were an intruder.”
“I am the owner of this building,” I corrected him. I pulled the silver flash drive from my pocket and held it up. “And I have what I came for. You will not report my presence to Headmaster Davis. You will not mention this to Mr. Sterling. You will finish your patrol, and tomorrow morning, at eight o'clock, your team will secure the doors of the boardroom from the outside. No one leaves without my permission. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Miller said immediately.
I walked past them without another word, my cheap shoes clicking against the linoleum.
By the time I reached the edge of the woods where Elias was waiting in the SUV, the sky was beginning to turn a bruised, pre-dawn purple. Elias saw the flash drive in my hand as I opened the door. He let out a breath he had been holding for twenty minutes.
“We have it,” I said, sinking into the leather seat.
Elias put the car in gear. “Then it’s time to change your clothes, Mrs. Vance.”
The next morning, the air in the Crestview Academy boardroom was thick with expensive cologne and arrogance.
At 8:00 AM exactly, I stood in the small observation room overlooking the main conference table, hidden behind a pane of one-way glass. I wasn't wearing a faded cardigan. I was wearing a bespoke, charcoal-gray Chanel suit. My silver hair was swept up in a sharp, elegant twist. The heavy gold signet ring sat openly on my right hand.
Through the glass, I watched the board assemble.
Arthur Sterling sat at the head of the massive mahogany table, radiating power. Headmaster Davis hovered near him like an anxious servant. Across the room, Cameron and Mason sat in reserved guest chairs, wearing tailored blazers, looking incredibly bored. They were there to receive a fabricated “student leadership” commendation—a photo op Arthur had arranged to pad Cameron’s Ivy League applications.
Dylan was also in the room, sitting next to his father, looking completely nauseous. He caught my eye through the glass for a split second, but he looked away, terrified.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Arthur announced, his deep voice carrying through the speakers into my observation room. “Let’s bring this meeting to order. Today is a historic day for Crestview. Not only are we honoring our brightest students, but we are finalizing the acquisition of the waterfront property that will double our endowment’s yield.”
It was a lie. The property was a toxic asset owned by Arthur’s own firm. He was using the school’s money to buy his own worthless land, balancing his books while bankrupting the academy.