Chapter 8 - The Queen's Gambit
The mountain wind bit through Chloe's thin designer jacket, but the chill in her veins was much worse.
Preston stood over her, his eyes cold and calculating.
"I know he gave you the book, Chloe," Preston said softly, almost like a threat.
"Give it to me, and I'll make sure your family's bankruptcy stays quiet."
Chloe forced herself to maintain eye contact, refusing to show how terrified she was.
She realized in that moment how much she had changed in just a few days.
The old Chloe would have traded anyone's life to protect her social standing.
But as she looked at Preston, the boy she was supposed to marry, she only felt disgust.
"I don't know where the ledger is," Chloe lied smoothly, her voice steady.
"He hid it before the race."
Preston scoffed, clearly not believing her.
"You have until tomorrow night's masquerade gala to find it," he warned.
"Or I destroy you."
Preston got into his Porsche and drove off, leaving her stranded by the wrecked Mustang.
Chloe immediately called a private car service and headed straight back to the academy.
She knew Asher didn't commit the corporate espionage.
Preston had framed him using the Vault's resources to manipulate the security footage.
If she could find the original, unedited video file, she could prove Asher's innocence.
She knew exactly where Preston kept his digital backups.
It was inside his private dorm suite, highly secured and completely off-limits.
At 3:00 AM, Chloe bypassed the dormitory security using an old master key she had stolen from a janitor.
She crept into Preston's suite while he was asleep in the master bedroom.
She booted up his primary desktop, praying the password was still the same.
She typed in his mother's maiden name, and the screen unlocked.
Chloe quickly navigated through the encrypted folders, searching for the raw video files.
She found a folder labeled "Kensington Project."
Inside was the unedited footage, showing one of Preston's hired thugs wearing a leather jacket.
She quickly plugged in a flash drive and hit transfer.
The progress bar moved agonizingly slowly.
Ninety percent.
Ninety-five percent.
Suddenly, the lights in the suite snapped on, blinding her.
Chloe froze in terror.
Preston was standing in the doorway of his bedroom.
May you like
He was fully awake, and he was holding a heavy, silver-plated golf club.
"You really shouldn't have done that, Chloe," he said, stepping into the room.
