Chapter 79

Agnes

Maria looked like a deer in headlights as she glanced back and forth between me and Gertrude. She clutched her book so tightly to her chest that I thought she might snap the hard cover in half completely.

“W-What?” she finally blurted out, an unconvincing little smile touching her lips. She shook her head, causing a few strands of short brown hair to fall into her eyes. “Nothing’s going on. I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

Gertrude and I exchanged glances, and I pursed my lips.

“You were crying in the design department the other week,” I said slowly, cautiously, as if I were speaking to a frightened child. “And then when I found that sketch on your desk—”

Maria’s face went pale. “I was crying because my boyfriend broke up with me. And as for the sketch, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

She was lying, of course. I could practically smell it on her.

I leaned closer, and before she could move away, I grabbed her hand. I kept my touch gentle and offered her a welcoming smile, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze. “It’s Ava, isn’t it?”

The designer looked like she’d just been shot.

For several long moments, there was nothing but silence. Her hand tensed under mine, her eyes darting past Gertrude and toward the exit, as if she was considering making a run for it anyway.

But then her shoulders slumped, and her book fell onto her lap. She stared down at our joined hands for a long moment, and her shoulders began to tremble.

“Yes,” she finally said, covering her face with her hands as she began to quietly sob. “Yes, she’s been torturing me.”

I straightened, exchanging another glance with Gertrude. I should have known that my sister was behind this all along. Although I wasn’t exactly sure what she was behind just yet. But whatever it was, I knew it couldn’t be good.

After taking a deep breath, more to calm myself than anything, I said, “What is she doing to you?”

Maria sniffled and picked her head up, wiping her nose with her sleeve. Tears were streaked down her face, and I pulled my handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her. She thanked me meekly and dabbed at her eyes with it, composing herself before continuing.

“If I tell you,” she said, her voice more grave now, “you have to promise not to tell her that I did.”

I frowned. “Did she threaten you?”

Maria nodded stiffly. “She… knows some information about me.” Her eyes widened a little more at my wary expression, and she shook her head quickly. “Nothing illegal, I assure you, Luna. But she knows some personal information about me that could mess up my life. And she told me that if I told a soul about our arrangement, then she would tell everyone that information.”

Typical, I thought, my lip curling wryly. Of course Ava would stoop to blackmailing a young woman into doing her bidding.

Finally, I nodded. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t find out that you told me.”

That seemed to calm the designer down a bit.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Ava… She’s been stealing my work as her own—submitting my sketches for the meetings, pretending that she made all of my designs when she’s really been forcing me to give her all of my work.”

My eyes widened. “So that’s why there were only nineteen submissions instead of twenty,” I said quietly.

Maria nodded. “The night you found me crying, I was upset because I wanted to tell you the truth. But that was when Ava revealed what she knew about me, and what she would do if I told you.”

At that, I felt my chest tighten. All this time, right under my nose, my sister was tormenting one of my employees to the point of tears.

I had to stop her. No, more than that; I had to put her in her place, once and for all.

I couldn’t stand for this anymore. I wasn’t just Ava’s sister anymore, nor was I a random person in the pack. I was the Luna.

It was my duty to keep my people safe.

That day, thanks to Gertrude’s suggestions, I came up with a foolproof plan to expose Ava without her finding out that Maria had told me the truth. After lunch, I called all of the employees to the conference room for an unexpected meeting.

Once they had all gathered, Ava included, I smiled as brightly as I could and held up a dry erase marker.

“I was thinking we could try a fun exercise today,” I said, keeping my tone as light and airy as possible. “Each one of you will have three minutes to sketch a design on the whiteboard on the spot. Whoever has the best design at the end will get a prize.”

The designers murmured amongst themselves, wondering what the prize could be. Meanwhile, Maria stood at the back of the group, her lips pressed into a thin, slightly worried line. I shot her a meaningful look as if to say “Don’t worry,” then glanced over at where Ava was standing.

She was leaning against the wall, her arms folded across her chest with a perfect mask of indifference on her face.

But I knew the truth. I could see the look of panic flickering behind her eyes, could practically taste the worry emanating off of her like a heatwave.

“Everyone has to participate,” I added for good measure, my voice leaving no room for argument. “I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

That seemed to set my sister off. Her eyes flicked to the door, and I could tell she was debating making a run for it. But it was at that moment that my trump card appeared.

Elijah stepped into the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking the exit. His authoritative presence immediately filled the space, and any pretense of running on Ava’s part quickly dissolved.

“I’ll be auditing this meeting,” he said, his eyes roaming the room. They settled on Ava for the briefest of moments before turning to me, and I could see the sparkle of anticipation behind his gaze.

Suppressing an evil little grin, I turned to the group and held up my marker. “Who wants to go first?”

As the first designers drew their designs on the whiteboard, it was nearly impossible to hide my glee. Soon enough, the line had dwindled, leaving only Ava and Maria—which meant that it was time.

I turned to Ava first and handed her the marker. “Ava, you can go now.”

Ava stiffened. She didn’t reach for the marker right away, but when I didn’t pull back, she hesitantly wrapped her fingers around it and stepped up to the whiteboard.

“I’m not prepared,” she said, glancing warily at me over her shoulder.

I shrugged. “No one else was prepared, and they did just fine. Besides, your designs have been so phenomenal, surely you won’t have any trouble whipping something up.”

Ava’s eyes narrowed, flickering from me to Elijah, who was still leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. Everything about him seemed to radiate authority, and even Ava knew that she wouldn’t get past him.

Finally, with a deep breath, she began to draw.

To say that Ava’s sketch was an utter disaster would have been an understatement. Her lines were jagged and wrong, and she kept erasing every little detail to start over. Her movements grew more frantic as the timer ticked away, and soon, the room had gone utterly silent save for the hurried squeaking of her marker across the whiteboard and the curses she loosed under her breath.

After three minutes, the timer went off. Ava recapped her marker and stepped back, and by now, her face was beet red.

“Ava, what happened?” I said sweetly, stepping forward. “I thought you were the best designer among us…”

A soft gasp rippled across the room as the other designers saw her work. It was nothing short of horrendous—almost like a child had drawn it. Hell, Thea, who was seven, could have done a much better job.

Ava’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as she looked around at the stunned faces. Her mouth worked uselessly, her hands trembling around the marker. Finally, her gaze settled on me.

“You… You set me up!” she blurted out, her lips shaking with barely suppressed rage.

I placed my hand over my chest, feigning innocence—just as she had done so many times. “Set you up?” I asked. “Set you up for what?”

Ava opened her mouth to retort, but no words came out. Finally, Elijah cleared his throat and stepped forward.

“I think it’s clear that you don’t belong in this department, Ava,” he said, withdrawing a folded paper from his pocket. “In fact, I don’t think you belong in this building at all. I know you forged a signature to get transferred to the design department.”

With a flourish, Elijah handed the paper to Ava. She took it with shaking hands, unfolding it to reveal it for what it was: a termination notice.

Her eyes went wide as saucers. “I… I didn’t forge a signature!”

“Your old supervisor says otherwise,” Elijah said as calmly as ever. “Said that you claimed that I transferred you to this department, and yet her signature was on the paper.”

Another gasp rippled across the room. I placed my hands on my hips, shaking my head ruefully. “Ava, I think you should leave.”

For a few moments, no one moved. Ava just stared at me, the expression in her eyes warring between disbelief, embarrassment, and anger.

Finally, she seemed to settle on embarrassment.

And without another word, she fled from the room.