Chapter 2: Under the glass
518 Words
By the time she left Richard’s place, her pulse still hadn't slowed, Richard Prescott, billionaire, heir to a dynasty of corruption, and a man she had spent three years studying.
The sound of the rain reminded her of fire, strange how opposites echo each other.
Rain swept across the city the next morning, blurring the towers into streaks of silver.
Rose pressed her hands against the steering wheel of the borrowed Bentley, breathing through the ache in her chest, Revenge wasn't supposed to feel this complicated she murmured.
Three years ago, her sister Lila, died in a car explosion that was never “officially” solved. The case was buried by money and influenced Prescott Industries’ signature. She had watched the man who signed her death warrant shake hands with politicians, smile on magazine covers, live untouchable, and walk freely,
Until now.
This wasn’t just revenge It was justice she said, she had built a new name, a new life, and today she will step into his world. He just didn’t know how deep, she was already inside it cos she was about to become his new assistant who was handpicked by a friend he trusted, though Richard didn't trust coincidences but he couldn't let go of her.
Rose moved through the marble lobby, her badge gleaming against her blouse. The receptionist’s smile was automatic; the security guard barely looked up. Perfect, just another new analyst in the empire of Richard Prescott.
Her workspace overlooked the Hudson. From where she stands, she could see her own reflection faintly in the glass an unremarkable silhouette in a sea of ambition. Yet every keystroke brought her closer to the encrypted files she’d come to find.
At noon, a shadow fell across her desk.
“You skipped orientation.”
She looked up. Richard Prescott stood there, jacket off, sleeves rolled, tie loosened just enough to look human. The storm behind him painted his features in silver and grey.
“I thought I’d be given some benefits,” she said.
“On what?”
“Understanding the company.”
“Or dismantling it?” he asked lightly, but there was a hidden truth under the joke.
Her pulse caught. “Excuse me?” she asked, pretending not to have heard the first time
“You analyze people, Miss Thompson. I can tell. Just make sure you don’t mistake curiosity for strategy.” he replied
He left before she could answer. The scent of his cologne cedar and something darker lingered in the air long after he was gone. Rose was still standing and for some minutes lost in his words and cologne.
That evening, she sat in her small rented apartment, laptop open, fingers clicking, Her sister’s file the one erased from public record had to exist somewhere within Prescott’s archives. She decided to trail some of his documents and the trail led through dummy accounts, offshore subsidiaries, and a project called V-One.
She traced the last login timestamp to a secure server under Richard’s personal authorization.
Her heart thudded and her eyes blurred, she whispered to herself, So it’s true.
- Writer
