Chapter 951
The room spun as Samantha drilled Janelle with questions. Sweat trickled down Janelle’s neck, but that stubborn voice in her head screamed louder than the pounding in her temples. ‘Don’t let her find Raven. Never let her get to Raven.‘
If Samantha dragged Raven back to Deariton? Game over. No revenge. No redemption. Just ashes where her dreams used to be.
“Spit it out already!” Samantha’s manicured nails tapped the desk like gunshots. “You do know her, don’t you?”
Janelle’s stuttering only made Samantha’s scowl deepen. The clock ticked. Her palms slicked with sweat. Then–bam–the idea hit like a lightning bolt
“You’re dying to find Raven, huh?” Janelle blurted, clutching at the lifeline. “But here’s the thing–you ever actually seen her? Like, if she walked past you right now, would you even know?”
Samantha’s pause said everything. “Lord Keegan left in a hurry,” she muttered. “No photo. Nothing”
“But that last name–Valor?” Janelle pushed, hiding her grin. “Super rare, right? I’ll sniff her out eventually.”
She leaned in, playing her ace. “But hey, what about the Selection? Scion’s inner circle needs vetted talent, and let’s be real–nobody runs it like you. You bail now? Whole thing could go to hell.”
Samantha’s jaw twitched. The conflict was delicious–duty versus obsession. And Janelle knew which one was winning.
Samantha couldn’t shake the feeling that, between Raven and the selection event, Keegan would prioritize Raven. Both were crucial, no question, but something told her his heart leaned toward the mysterious artifact over the tedious process of choosing talent.
Janelle, ever the schemer, rolled her eyes and leaned in with a sly grin. “Look, I’ve got a fix for your little dilemma. If you trust me–and c’mon, why wouldn’t you?-hand me the reins for the selection event. You can jet off to me, hunt down Raven, and not worry about a thing.”
“When you’re off in Deariton, I’ll step up,” Janelle added, her voice dripping with confidence. “I’ll handpick the cream of the crop for you, no sweat.”
In her mind, Janelle was already plotting. If Samantha gave her the gig, she could tilt the scales in favor of her own crew during the selection. A little nudge here, a blind eye there, and her people would rise to the top.
With her allies planted around Scion–whether as shadow guards or civil servants–Janelle’s future would be golden. No one in Deariton would dare look down on her again, no matter her small–town roots. She’d be untouchable.
She figured Samantha would jump at the offer. Easy fix, right? But when she caught a flicker of disdain in Samantha’s eyes, Janelle’s stomach dropped.
Samantha’s gaze was cold, sizing her up. Janelle, a nobody from some backwater tertiary city, with zero standout skills. ‘Who does she think she is, volunteering to handpick talent for Scion?‘ she thought.
This wasn’t just any job–it was choosing the trusted inner circle for their future leader. Every step had to be perfect, and Janelle? She wasn’t even in the ballpark.
Samantha’s patience snapped. “The selection process is no joke, Janelle. These are trusted aides we’re talking about–shadow guards to protect Scion, civil servants to carry her burdens. We can’t half–ass this. It’s gotta be airtight.”
She crossed her arms, her tone sharp. “You’re not cut out to run the show. No way I’m handing you that kind of responsibility. If anything goes south, I’d have to answer to Lord Keegan, and I’m not about to let that happen.”
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