Page 52 of Revenge

“Come in,” said a weary voice.

I stepped inside. Edward slumped on his desk, mahogany hair mussed, blazer open with the top three buttons of his shirt undone. He would have looked hot if it hadn’t been for the red rims of his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here.” His voice was cracked. “Your stepfather’s assistant. Can you vouch for her trustworthiness?”

My heart spasmed, making me suck in a breath between my teeth. I smoothed my features, trying to keep from appearing over-eager. “Yes. Marissa is just interested in getting extra work to pay a few expenses. If we tell her we’re worried about Mr. Chaloner giving you a false accounting, she won’t even know to call the press.”

He leaned back in his leather desk chair, closed his eyes and flexed his jaw, as though chewing over the problem. “You’re sure about Marissa?”

My insides trembled with anticipation. “Absolutely.”

Edward opened a drawer from under his desk and pulled out a large, manilla file. “Tell her to treat these papers with the utmost confidentiality.”

Triumph exploded in my chest like fireworks, but I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep my expression grave. “I’ll take it to London, right now.”

He reached for his phone. “Let me order you a car.”

My stomach dropped. The Correspondent building was on Fleet Street, which was famous for newspapers. Any driver of his would report back to Edward with my activities. “It’ll be faster by train.”

He sighed and slid his hand through his hair. “All right.”

I walked around his desk and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Even though Edward had been one of my biggest tormentors and he and his friends had ruined my future, I would miss them when I returned to New York. “It will work out for the best.” I pressed a kiss on his temple. “I promise.”

Chapter 17

Later that day, I sat in Jackie’s office, watching her leaf through the papers. An accountant called Greg stood beside her chair, reading over her shoulder and shaking his head every so often. I hadn’t dared to open the folder until I reached her in case I dropped something in my nervousness.

She whistled. “Mr. Chaloner is something else.”

I leaned forward. “What did you find?”

Jackie smirked. “Receipts for cash payments of fifty thousand pounds per student.”

“Per term,” added Greg.

“Transfers from numbered accounts in Nevis, Panama, and the Cayman Islands to an account in Switzerland.”

My brows drew together. “What does that mean?”

Jackie licked her lips. “Your friend and his headmaster have received significant payments from sources that do not wish to be named. And most of them in cash. This is money laundering, which is very serious.”

“We’ll have to hand these over to the National Crime Agency,” said Greg.

“After I publish the story,” snapped Jackie.

The older man gulped and turned his gaze to me. “How on earth did you manage to get the headmaster to hand you such incriminating evidence?”

I cringed. “It’s a long story.”

“We should be able to get this article syndicated to a number of other publications,” said Jackie. “You’ve made us a lot of money with your investigations. If you want to skip uni, let me know. You’d excel in investigative journalism.”

“Thanks. Will you tell Rudolph I’m holding up my end of the bargain?”

She grinned, revealing yellowing teeth. “He knows and he’s very impressed with how your research has turned around our paper. I’ll let him know about this particular piece of research. You’ve delivered over a dozen ground-breaking stories, and he told me he only expected four.”

* * *

Now that Jackie had everything she needed for an article to expose the scam behind International House and Edward’s contribution towards it, I focused on my more pressing target: Henry. Asking him directly to clear my name hadn’t worked, so I thought a grand gesture might prompt him into doing the right thing.