The headmaster's office door was not fully closed yet when the sound of high heels hit the marble floor of the first-floor corridor.Rovan had just tightened half of the utility room door hinge when the sound echoed. He stopped his screwdriver, not moving, not breathing too hard. Through the slightly open door crack, he could see the main corridor."I will not wait until Monday. My husband will send a lawyer this very morning."Victoria Ashford stood in front of the reception desk with her hands clenched at her sides. Her cream-day dress looked stiffer than usual, as if the fabric itself was holding back its owner's anger. Behind her, Mrs. Harrington nodded with her lips pressed tight. Both of them were still holding the white envelopes with the school logo—the status review letters they had received since last week and had not yet been withdrawn.The young receptionist swallowed hard. "Mrs. Ashford, the Headmaster is in a meeting with—""I don't care who he is meeting with." Victoria

"The main pipe is leaking. The lower floor is already flooded."George's voice sounded out of breath at the utility room door. His face was pale, his blue uniform wet from the knees down. Behind him, the sound of running water was faint but continuous, like a tap that could not be turned off.Rovan, who was filling a spray bottle, turned immediately. "How bad is it?""Bad. The water is ankle-deep in the lower corridor. If we do not stop it, the entire archive storage room will be underwater in an hour." George swallowed hard. "And tonight is the Charity Gala, Rovan. Caldwell is already panicking upstairs. Guests start arriving at seven."Rovan put down the spray bottle. He grabbed the toolbox from the shelf, opened a drawer, and put in a wrench, a screwdriver, and a roll of spare hose. "Where is the leak?""In the basement. Near the main valve. I tried to shut it, but the pressure is too high. My hands are not strong enough.""I am going down."George nodded quickly. "Be careful. The f

Grayish-white smoke had filled half of the first-floor corridor when Rovan reached the end of the stairs from the basement.The alarm was still piercing. Red lights blinked in every corner. From the direction of the main hall, the sound of breaking glass echoed once, followed by screams. Many. Overlapping. Guests who had already arrived for the early cocktail session—about one hundred and fifty out of the three hundred confirmed—stood in panicked groups near the entrance. Some were still holding champagne glasses. Some had already dropped them.Rovan did not run toward the crowd. He ran toward the utility panel on the nearest wall, opened the cover, and pressed three buttons in sequence. The emergency ventilation system activated. Large ceiling fans began to spin, pushing the smoke toward the upper windows that opened automatically.Then he turned around and walked quickly toward the crowd."Everyone calm down!"His voice did not shout. It did not pierce. It was just loud enough to cu

"We represent Lord Ashford. And we want to meet the majority owner of this foundation. Now."The man's voice sounded clearly in the reception area of St. Jude's Prep. Loud, controlled, with an accent honed in the courtrooms of the House of Lords. Two lawyers in black suits stood in front of the desk. The one speaking was a man in his fifties with silver hair and rimless glasses. Beside him, a younger woman held a thick leather folder.The young receptionist swallowed hard. "I... I will call the Headmaster.""Do it. Fast. Our client does not have much time, even from inside detention."The receptionist picked up the phone. Her fingers shook over the buttons.Outside the building, on the east side of the backyard, Rovan was trimming the hedges that had started to grow wild. The large shears in his hands moved with measured rhythm. Every cut was precise. Not rushed. Not slow. His gray uniform was already wet on the back from the rising morning sun.From inside the building, he could hear

"Representative of the cleaning staff? Are you joking, Caldwell?"Whitmore's voice resounded clearly in the hall, which was already packed with nearly two hundred parents. He stood beside the podium with a leather folder open, his black suit without a single wrinkle. Behind him, his female colleague arranged documents on the table. In the front row, Victoria Ashford sat with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes red but her back straight.Caldwell stood at the podium with a tense face. "Mr. Miller is an official staff member of this school. He is attending as a non-teaching representative. According to emergency meeting procedures.""Procedures?" Whitmore let out a short laugh. "We are discussing land ownership worth forty million pounds, and you bring a janitor to the bargaining table?"Quiet laughter echoed from a few corners of the hall. Not many. But enough.Rovan stood in the third row from the back. His gray uniform was clean—he had changed before coming in—but it was still