Elena's POV
Once beaten, twice shy, right?
The tasks from the burner phone is not a joke anymore. This is serious. I have to keep doing the tasks until I find out who is behind it.
I spend the entire night researching Thomas Blackwell.
My laptop screen burns my eyes, tears roll down as I click. The Blackwell family empire is even more massive than I thought. Forty billion dollars spread across pharmaceuticals, technology, real estate, and private security. Richard Blackwell built it from his father's smaller fortune by ruthlessly acquiring competitors and crushing anyone who got in his way. That is dark.
His wife Catherine comes from old Connecticut money. The marriage was strategic, combining new wealth with established social connections. Power marrying power.
And then there are the twins. Thomas and Tobias. Twenty-three years old. Identical in every physical way but completely different in everything else.
Thomas, heir of the Blackwell family graduated high school at sixteen with a perfect GPA. Dual degrees from Princeton by twenty. Currently working toward his MBA at Ashford Academy, while being groomed to take over the family empire. Perfect attendance at every society event. Perfect grades. Perfect reputation. No scandals, no mistakes, no weaknesses anyone can find.
Tobias dropped out of Princeton after one semester and only returned when his parents threatened to cut him off. He is known for partying, drinking, and sleeping around. He is black sheep of the family.
God, I wonder who I slept with. I really do hope it is Thomas, if anything
At 3 AM, I open my desk drawer to grab aspirin for my headache.
The burner phone is sitting there, fully charged, waiting.
I freeze, but somehow I unfreeze almost immediately. It is like I am getting used to the mystery, weirdly anticipating the next message even
I read the message on the phone.
Can't sleep? Me neither. I'm always watching, Elena. See you at debate club tomorrow. Don't be late.
I set the phone down, then I proceed to search the whole room for more burner phones, but I find nothing
Something shifts inside me. The person doing this is smart. It is not magic that burner phones keep appearing all around me, even when I destroy them. It is just a cheap trick that I have not figured out yet!
I'm done running. If someone wants to play games, then fine. I'll learn the rules. I'll figure out who they are. And I'll destroy them.
But first, I need to survive debate club.
I pull up everything I can find about Thomas's debate record. I find his positions, his arguments, his style. I find out that he favours economic arguments. He stays calm under pressure. He never gets emotional.
I'm going to challenge Thomas Blackwell.
And I'm going to win.
If I was able to get into the prestigious, Ashford Academy, and then I can do anything
***
Morrison Hall is impressive in that way everything at Ashford is impressive. High ceilings, dark wood paneling, portraits of dead rich men lining the walls. The debate club meets in a room that looks like it belongs in a courthouse. It smells of too much old money
I'm fifteen minutes early. Only three other people are here. Two guys setting up chairs and a girl flipping a book at the front table.
I take a seat in the back row and try to look like I belong, but my thrift store blazer screams fake.
Soon students start filtering in. They all have that same polished look. Money that doesn't have to announce itself because everyone already knows. I wonder what that feels like. I recognize some faces from around campus, people that mocked me that day at the quad after Tobais. I shake my head to remove the memory. I need to focus
Then Victoria Sterling walks in. Of course I remember her. Asides from her overwhelming social media presence, she mocked me the loudest at the quad. I think she has a thing with one of the twins.
I don't like her, but I can't deny the fact that she's tunning. Tall, fake blonde… She stops when she sees me, her perfect face twisting into something ugly.
"Oh god," she says loud enough for everyone to hear. "They let anyone in here now?"
A few people laugh. I keep my face neutral and don't respond. Rich girls like that suffer no consequences.
But she is not done with me. Victoria walks over to where I'm sitting. "Didn't realize the scholarship came with free entertainment, trailer trash slut" she smirks
My hands clench in my lap. She really dug into my background. I start to see red at the edge of my vision. "I'm here for the debate club. That's all."
"Right. Sure you are." She leans in close. "Stay away from Thomas Blackwell. He's mine."
"I'm not interested in Thomas Blackwell."
"He is not interested in you too!" She straightens and walks to the front of the room, sitting in the first row like the queen of the place.
More students arrive. The room fills up. And then he
Thomas Blackwell.
I take in his appearance properly this time. He is easily 6'3". Handsome with sharp, regal features, jet black hair kept perfectly styled, piercing steel-gray eyes that scan the room with the confidence of someone who has never been told no in his entire life, and a chiseled body that is still too noticeable even in his expensive suit. He makes me envy being rich
The club president calls the meeting to order.
"Welcome everyone to the first meeting of the semester. My name is Fred Benson…" he starts to talk, but my thoughts drift away. I think of the debate ahead. I think of the task. I do not want to fail…
"Why don't we start with you?" Through my peripheral view, I see the president point at me. I get startled, but luckily my body doesn't show it
Every head in the room turns. I feel Thomas's eyes on me but I don't look at him.
I immediately figure out what they want from me. "Elena Hayes," I say. "Sophomore. Merit scholarship. Interested in corporate ethics and regulation."
Victoria actually snorts loudly . "Corporate ethics. How original."
Is there no order in this club? Anyone can just interrupt?
Fred clears his throat. "Great, thank you Elena. Anyone else new?"
A whole lot of conversations are happening around me, but I only half listen. I'm thinking about the task. Challenge Thomas Blackwell and make him look foolish.
The problem is that Thomas Blackwell doesn't look foolish. Ever. I've watched videos of his debates. He's brilliant, controlled, ruthless in his arguments. The only way to beat him is to be better prepared and hit him where he doesn't expect it.
"Now," Fred says, "let's do a practice round. Today's topic: Should pharmaceutical companies be required to cap drug prices to ensure accessibility?"
I sit up straighter. This is perfect. Blackwell Industries has a pharmaceutical division that's been in the news for price gouging. I could challenge him by saying his family extorts the public
Fred looks around the room. "Thomas, you want to take the con position?"
Thomas nods. "Sure."
"Great. Who wants to argue pro?"
Silence. No one raises their hand. No one even moves. They're all too afraid to go up agains
t Thomas Blackwell.
The burner phone vibrates in my pocket. A reminder
I raise my hand.
Its show time