Chapter 4 First Day in School
Amelia POV
I quickly exited the chat and headed for the door.
Grace stood there, holding an expensive-looking microphone in her hands, eyes sparkling with fake friendliness.
"I brought you a welcome home gift," she said.
I glanced at the microphone and immediately recognized it—Robert had given this to Grace three years ago for her music production work. She'd repackaged it to look brand new, but the telltale signs of disassembly couldn't escape my trained eye. One gentle touch and this thing would fall apart completely.
I kept my expression neutral, extending my hand. "You're so thoughtful."
Grace's smile widened as she reached forward to hand me the microphone. At the last second, her grip "slipped," and the device crashed to the floor, shattering.
Right on cue, tears began welling up in Grace's eyes. "How could you?" she sobbed. "I tried to make peace with you!"
I let her performance stretch for a moment, then crouched down, gathered up the largest piece of the broken microphone, and shoved it into Grace's mouth before she could react. "Since you seem so eager to perform, why don't you sing for me?"
Grace's eyes went wide with terror as she tried to push me away, but I easily pinned her wrists with my free hand. She made muffled choking sounds, tears streaming down—real ones this time.
"The problem with you, Grace, is that you never learn from your mistakes," I continued in the same calm tone.
Three years ago, Grace had deliberately spilled coffee on Catherine's important legal documents and then claimed I'd done it.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs as Robert and Catherine rushed toward us, drawn by Grace's muffled cries for help. I casually extracted the microphone piece just as they rounded the corner. Grace immediately collapsed to her knees, coughing and retching.
"Amelia!" Catherine shrieked, dropping down beside Grace to check for injuries. "What is wrong with you?"
Robert's face flushed with anger. "I should have known bringing you back here was a mistake—"
He raised his hand as if to strike me, but I sidestepped effortlessly. "Careful there, Dad," I said with mock concern. "How would it look if you attacked your own biological daughter to protect some random girl?"
Catherine's face went pale. "If you would just learn to control that savage behavior you picked up in Russia, we could treat you both equally—"
"Equally?" I laughed out loud. "Is that what you call telling everyone I was a distant relative's child? That kind of equality?"
Grace was still on her knees, clutching her throat and working up more tears. "Please don't be angry with Amelia. I just wanted us to be real sisters."
I watched her performance with clinical interest.
"Your mind is absolutely filthy," Catherine snapped at me, then continued in a more calculating tone. "Robert and I had been discussing your situation. Since you seem intent on staying, we thought you might benefit from attending Everdark University. Classes start the day after tomorrow. It would give you and Grace a chance to bond properly, and maybe you'd learn some civilized behavior."
I could see right through their purpose. They were probably terrified I'd expose Grace's true parentage. The university suggestion was to get me settled down, then pressure me into signing away inheritance rights.
But their plan might actually work in my favor. A university student identity would provide perfect cover for investigating the stolen drive.
"Fine," I said. "I'll attend your little university. And I promise not to start any trouble with Grace." I paused, letting them think they'd won. "As long as she doesn't provoke me first. But every time she tries something, I'll make sure she regrets it."
Before any of them could respond, I snapped my hand up and delivered a sharp slap across Grace's cheek. "That's for tonight's performance," I said pleasantly.
Catherine lunged forward with a shriek of rage, but I was already stepping backward through my doorway. I closed the door with a soft click, leaving them in the hallway with their precious injured princess.
I reopened the encrypted chat on my phone.
Auditor: [What happened? You went dark for ten minutes.]
Me: [Just handled a minor pest problem. I need you to bring the drugs directly to me. I'm sending you my location.]
I attached the GPS coordinates for the Coltman estate.
Me: [Send the drugs here. Tell the buyer the transaction location and time: Everdark University main entrance, day after tomorrow at 10 PM.]
Auditor: [Everdark University? You're going to college now, Dancer? You're not planning to stay there permanently, are you?]
Me: [Depends on how things develop. Currently enjoying some quality time at home sweet home.]
Auditor: [Home sweet home? Shouldn't that be 'home sweet body count'?]
I didn't bother responding to her sarcasm and logged off.
The next day, the drugs arrived, and no records were kept.
The day after that, I prepared for my first day at Everdark University. Robert had somehow arranged my enrollment as a first-year ballet student from Russia. The cover identity was actually perfect. And living in the dorms means I won't have to deal with the family circus every day.
I packed the N-99 neutralizer carefully in my bag. Meeting the buyer at the university entrance would help establish my student credentials.
When I came downstairs, the house was empty. Apparently, the happy family had already left for their own activities. Typical. I called a cab and headed to campus alone.
The dormitory was a modest two-story building with ivy crawling up its brick walls. My room was on the second floor, and when I pushed open the door, I found my roommate already unpacking.
"Hi there!" she said brightly, turning from her suitcase with a smile. "I'm Claire Foster. You must be Amelia. They said I'd be getting a roommate from Russia."
Claire was attractive in an understated way, with styled hair and expensive clothes that managed to look casual. Everything about her screamed upper-class family, but she didn't seem to flaunt it.
"You can pick either bed," she continued, gesturing around the room. "I don't really have a preference."
I chose the bed closest to the door—always keep your escape routes clear.
"I'm from Sunever City," Claire said as she continued unpacking. "My family's... well, let's just say they have certain expectations about where I should go to school. But I like to keep a low profile about that stuff."
She seemed genuinely friendly, which was refreshing for me.
"Speaking of keeping low profiles," Claire continued with a mischievous grin, "it's funny that your last name is Colt. There's this absolutely notorious girl here named Grace Coltman—your names are so close!"
My interest sharpened instantly. "Oh, really?"
"I mean, I've only heard stories from other students and the campus forums," Claire said quickly. "She's a sophomore in the music program, head of the cheerleading squad. Her family owns some big law firm, and her brother's that washed-up theater actor—Sean Coltman?"
I nodded, encouraging her to continue.
"Anyway, from what I've heard, she's completely two-faced. Acts all sweet and perfect in public, but apparently, she's super manipulative behind the scenes. There's even some kind of party tonight—she's supposedly inviting all the new students, but really it's just a recruiting event for her sorority. Anyone who doesn't show up gets blacklisted." Claire shrugged apologetically. "Of course, this is all secondhand gossip. I can't vouch for any of it being true."
The thought of ruining Grace's big night was too tempting to resist. "We're going to that party," I announced.
Claire blinked. "You're not actually thinking of joining her sorority, are you?"
"Absolutely not. I just can't stand the thought of that bitch terrorizing innocent freshmen. Someone needs to put her in her place."
Claire studied my face with obvious curiosity. "Sounds like you have some personal experience with this type of situation. What's your background, anyway?"
I needed to be careful here. "I spent most of my childhood training in Russia. The experience gave me a very low tolerance for bullies and manipulators."
Claire grinned. "Well, in that case, I'd better come with you. Someone's got to watch your back in case you bite off more than you can chew."
I found myself genuinely liking this girl. She had backbone, which was more than I could say for most people.
That evening, Claire lent me a simple black dress and a small purse—perfect for carrying my phone and the neutralizer drugs. My plan was simple: teach Grace a lesson at her little power play, then slip away to meet the buyer.
We arrived at the ballroom entrance to find Grace holding court in an elaborate gown, surrounded by a cluster of girls who were obviously her devoted followers.
Her eyes narrowed when she spotted me. "I'm sorry, but your outfit doesn't meet our dress code."