Chapter 7: New Alliances and Old Enemies
915 Words
Ellie’s small, damp room in Peckham became her war room.
She spent late nights after cleaning shifts analysing everything she could find about Richard Thornton’s world. Bank records, company filings, society pages — anything publicly available. The more she dug, the more she realised how protected these people were.
A knock at her door one evening brought an unexpected visitor.
“Ava?!” Ellie exclaimed as she opened the door.
Her younger cousin, Ava Harper, 18 years old and full of fire, stood there with a backpack and a determined grin. She had travelled down from Manchester after hearing fragmented stories from family.
“Mum said you were in trouble,” Ava said, stepping inside and looking around the tiny room. “I wasn’t about to let you fight this alone. Family sticks together, right?”
Ellie hugged her tightly, feeling a rare moment of warmth. Ava was the opposite of her — loud, fearless, street-smart, and unafraid to speak her mind. Having her in London felt like gaining a secret weapon.
With Sophie already on board, Ellie now had a small but loyal crew. They met in cheap cafés and parks, carefully planning their moves.
“I still have some contacts from the old parties,” Sophie said during one meeting. “A few girls who got burned by the same men. They might talk if we promise to protect them.”
Meanwhile, Jasmine Harrington tried to slither back into Ellie’s life.
She sent a message out of the blue:
“Hey babe, heard you’re back in town. Can we meet? I feel awful about how things ended. Let me make it up to you.”
Ellie played the game perfectly. She agreed to meet Jazz at a neutral coffee shop in Soho. When they sat down, Jazz put on her best remorseful act.
“I was scared, Ellie. Richard’s wife was threatening everyone. I panicked and threw you under the bus. I’m so sorry.”
Ellie smiled sweetly, hiding her disgust. “Water under the bridge. I’ve moved on.”
She subtly recorded the entire conversation on her phone while feeding Jazz small pieces of fake information. By the end of the meeting, Jazz believed Ellie was weak and broken — exactly what Ellie wanted her to think.
Later that night, Ellie played the recording for Sophie and Ava.
“She’s still working with Richard,” Ava said, eyes narrowed. “We can use this.”
The game escalated faster than Ellie expected.
Through one of Sophie’s contacts, she obtained a leaked document suggesting Richard Thornton had been moving questionable funds through offshore accounts. It wasn’t enough for the police yet, but it was enough to cause damage.
Ellie anonymously sent the documents to a young investigative journalist she found on LinkedIn — someone hungry for a big story. Within days, a small article appeared online hinting at “irregularities in a prominent hedge fund manager’s portfolio.”
Richard felt the heat immediately.
He called Ellie late one night from an unknown number. His voice was ice cold.
“I know it’s you, Eleanor. Stop this childish game before you get hurt.”
Ellie’s heart pounded, but her voice remained steady. “You should’ve left me alone when you had the chance, Richard. Now it’s my turn.”
He laughed bitterly. “You have no idea who you’re playing with. I can destroy your future with one phone call.”
“Then do it,” Ellie challenged. “But I’ll make sure the whole city knows what kind of man you really are.”
She hung up, adrenaline surging through her veins.
At university, things were equally intense. Professor Edward Lang cornered her after a lecture.
“Miss Harper,” he said with a fake smile, “your recent improvement is… remarkable. But I’d be careful if I were you. Rumours can go both ways.”
Ellie looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m not afraid of your rumours anymore, Professor. In fact, I wonder what your wife would think about your ‘private tutoring’ sessions.”
Lang’s face paled. He backed off immediately.
Chloe Whitmore also reappeared, more venomous than ever. She confronted Ellie in the university courtyard one afternoon, surrounded by her circle of friends.
“You really think you can come back and play the victim?” Chloe sneered. “You’re just a Northern slut who got lucky for five minutes.”
Ellie stepped closer, her voice low and dangerous. “Enjoy your position while it lasts, Chloe. Because when I’m done, none of you will have a reputation left.”
Marcus witnessed the confrontation from a distance. Later, he caught up with Ellie as she walked to the tube station.
“You’re really doing this,” he said, concern etched on his face. “Going after all of them.”
“I have to,” Ellie replied. “They took everything from me. My dignity. My mother’s trust. My future. I’m taking it back — even if it means becoming someone I don’t fully recognise.”
Marcus stopped walking and gently touched her arm. “Just don’t lose the real Ellie completely. The girl I met in first year… she was special.”
For a brief moment, Ellie felt the old pull toward him — the warmth, the possibility of something real. But she pushed it down.
“Special girls get destroyed in this city,” she said quietly. “I’m becoming what I need to be.”
- Writer
