Chapter 2 Another Identity
1144 Words
After leaving the collection gallery, I didn't head straight back to my place. Instead, I went to a small workshop I had rented.
The ceramic vase with the letter was what I needed. The rest didn't have Carrie's markings, so I planned to sell them on the black market.
'I wonder if the items I left behind had any letters on them? Damn that annoying guy who showed up out of nowhere—I need to get back all the things he took!'
I sent a bounty message to the black market's intel network. I had to find out who that man was and just how much of a threat he posed to me!
With that handled, I cleaned up and changed into a loose, casual outfit. I pulled on a hat to cover my red hair and added a pair of black-rimmed glasses that hid half my face. The reflection in the mirror showed nothing more than an ordinary young woman—completely different from the sexy Scorpion who had toyed with the guards last night.
My other identity—an art history graduate student at Lyndora Women's University—was also the daughter of the former curator of the Joya Collection, the same place I'd infiltrated last night.
I just made it in time for the morning class. The moment the professor walked in, he announced some news. "Last night, the police recovered fragments of an ancient parchment map. The map is quite complex and remains undeciphered. We're selecting our top students from the archaeology department to assist with its restoration."
All eyes turned to me—I was that top student.
Right then, the sound of high heels echoed on the wooden floor. A blonde, blue-eyed woman in her forties pushed open the classroom door. "Assigning such an important task to a student who hasn't even graduated yet seems a bit irresponsible, don't you think? I've arranged for some help."
She was beautiful but as cold as ice, completely unconcerned about interrupting the class.
I sneered inwardly. 'The professor just made the announcement, and my hypocritical stepmother already has her next move ready!'
The professor smiled, trying to hide his discomfort. "Curator Tasha, you're always so thorough..."
"Acting curator," I corrected through gritted teeth. After all, my father, who'd been pushed aside, was still the rightful curator.
Tasha's gaze flicked to me, as if she were looking at a troublesome child. "Watch your tone. Right now, I'm the one in charge of the collection!"
I bit my lip. "Fine, acting curator. Take me to meet my new partners."
"These people are not good enough," I said after reviewing the files Tasha had given me. It was obvious they were just there to keep an eye on me.
Tasha smirked. "These experts were handpicked by me. Don't forget, your graduation assessment needs my approval."
She was actually threatening me with my graduation? Her need for control was suffocating!
Tasha was the acting curator of the Joya Collection and a major sponsor of the archaeology department. Her words carried weight.
I swallowed my anger and pointed to the file on the far edge. "I want him."
It wasn't one of Tasha's picks. Instead, it was the file of the eighth-ranked staff member in the archaeology department, a man named Gino.
The staff member looked uneasy. "He's experienced, but he's wheelchair-bound and has limited mobility."
I remained firm. "I did a tarot reading this morning, and eight is my lucky number. I want him."
Thanks to the quirky persona Tasha had forced on me, using tarot to make decisions didn't seem out of the ordinary.
A disabled assistant was perfect—less energy to spy on me.
Watching Tasha's face turn an ugly shade of green as she stormed out brought me some satisfaction.
But when I finally met Gino, he wasn't what I expected. He didn't look like a frail, disabled man at all. Though he had a blanket over his legs, I could tell he was tall and well-built. If he hadn't been wheeled in, it would've been hard to tell if he had any mobility issues.
Gino wore a light-colored mask, but it couldn't hide the ugly, jagged scars on his face—they looked like burns.
Yet, I couldn't help but notice that he had a pair of strikingly beautiful eyes.
Seeing that I wasn't fazed by his appearance, Gino smiled and extended his hand. "Hello, I'm Gino. I heard you specifically requested me?"
His voice was raspy, like he'd had throat injuries—maybe related to the burns on his face. But his hand, which he offered without a trace of a scar, was strong, veins bulging, exuding a sense of power.
For a disabled researcher, his upper body was remarkably fit, clearly indicating he was disciplined.
I didn't shake his hand, but Gino didn't seem bothered. He leaned forward slightly, moving closer. It was strange, but as he did, I felt a wave of pressure coming from him. It made me uneasy, almost nervous.
However, he simply looked up, smiling as he asked, "I'm curious, young lady. Out of all the able-bodied experts, why did you choose me? What exactly caught your eye?"
"I chose you because..." I began, moving closer to him, but suddenly tripped and fell right onto his lap!
"Uh, sorry!" I blurted out, flustered as I tried to get up, my hands and feet flailing in an awkward attempt to recover.
But at that moment, as I landed on his leg, I discreetly twisted the ring on my finger, releasing a hidden needle, and jabbed it hard into his thigh!
It was my lock-picking tool, sharp and sure to cause intense pain when stabbed into flesh.
In those moments of sudden pain, it's nearly impossible for someone to hide their true reaction—but Gino didn't even flinch. Now, I could believe he really was paralyzed from the waist down.
But I'd forgotten how strong his upper body was.
Gino's powerful hand gripped my exposed arm, his warmth seeping into my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Because of my childhood experiences, I couldn't stand being touched by men!
Panic surged through me as I struggled to free myself.
The blanket slipped off, and we were suddenly too close for comfort. Without the blanket between us, I ended up sitting right on top of... him. The shape and hard curve beneath me sent a shock through my system!
"Let me go! I just... slipped, and that's all," I stammered, unable to believe that my voice was shaking.
Gino didn't seem to notice my struggle. The eyes I had thought were so beautiful now held a spark of amusement.
He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that seemed to echo in my ear.
"Sweetheart, why are you so panicky?"
- Writer
