Chapter 75: Seeds and Snakes

“So with your position,” Lafu said carefully, “we were hoping you could mention to Ravial that you’re curious about the modeling side of the business. Maybe say you want to visit the offices more often, see how things work. Nothing big, just interest.”

Stacy nodded. “As his wife, no one would question you being there. You’d have access we could never get. Files, meetings, even casual conversations. Anything that might mention Celeste’s old contracts or bookings.”

Leitana frowned slightly. “But… if mi sudden ask to go company plenty, he go wonder why. He sharp. He notice change.”

Marco glanced back from the front. “That’s why we keep it natural. You don’t have to push hard. Just plant the seed. Say you want to understand what he does. That you’re proud of him. Men like that eat it up.”

Lafu smiled faintly. “And if he offers a tour or lets you sit in on something, perfect. We’ll guide you on what to look for without raising flags.”

Leitana twisted her fingers in her lap. “Mi try. But mi no good at pretend.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” Stacy said gently. “Just be curious. Be you.”

Leitana exhaled slowly and nodded. “Okay. Mi do it.”

Relief passed through the car.

Marco’s expression darkened. “There’s one more thing. The green snake—Valentina Rossi. Head of the fashion division. She’s secretive as hell. Always has been. We don’t know if she’s clean or neck-deep in this.”

Lafu’s jaw tightened. “Exactly. She controls everything under Ravial. If something rotten was happening with Celeste’s contracts or bookings, there’s no way Valentina didn’t at least suspect.”

Stacy added, “But she’s smart. Covers her tracks. Plays loyal.”

Leitana listened, quiet.

Marco met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’ve got higher authority than anyone there, Leitana. Wife trumps division head. If you’re around, people will talk more freely or slip up. Valentina won’t be able to hide as easily.”

Leitana swallowed. “Mi no want make enemy.”

“You won’t have to,” Lafu reassured. “Just be there. Smile. Listen. We’ll handle the rest.”

“If anyone helped keep Celeste quiet, or helped clean things up after… Valentina would know.”

Lafu’s voice softened. “You don’t confront her. Ever. You observe. And you let us know if she starts paying you too much attention.”

Leitana nodded slowly. “Mi understand.”

The car rolled to a stop at a red light. The glow washed over their faces, tense and thoughtful.

Marco broke the quiet again. “One more reason you’re important here, you outrank her. Even she answers to Ravial, and by extension, to you.”

Leitana shifted uncomfortably. “Mi no like power like that.”

Lafu gave a small, sad smile. “Power doesn’t care whether you like it. It exists anyway.”

The light turned green. The car moved.

Leitana leaned back, staring at the ceiling this time.

“I tell Ravial mi want learn,” she said quietly. “Mi no promise more than that.”

“That’s enough,” Lafu replied. “For now.”

The car slowed, approaching the familiar building of Julliard.

Leitana’s stomach knotted again.

She was stepping into something deep and dark.

As the car slowed and eased into a parking spot a few feet from the Juilliard building, Lafu suddenly remembered something she’d overlooked.

“Oh, and yes, darling—it completely slipped my mind—but how was your first day of lessons?” Lafu asked, turning in her seat with a warm smile.

“Yes, tell us everything!” Stacy chimed in brightly.

Marco nodded enthusiastically from the front.

Leitana managed a small smile, but the others caught the dimness in her eyes. They knew her well enough by now—Leitana was usually a burst of quiet sunshine. This subdued response wasn’t like her.

“What happened, honey?” Lafu asked gently. “Is something wrong? Did anything happen?”

Leitana met their concerned gazes for a moment, then shook her head. “No, no—mi fine. Mi jus’ tired,” she said softly. She wasn’t ready to talk about what happened with the Professor. Lafu saw straight through the excuse—she knew there was more—but she didn’t push. If Leitana wanted to share, she would, in her own time.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Lafu said, her voice tender. “But you know you can always come to us. Anytime.”

Stacy nodded firmly. “Day or night. Just call.”

Marco glanced at the dashboard clock. “You don’t have classes tomorrow, right?”

Leitana shook her head. “No. Tomorrow free.”

“Good,” Lafu said, a decisive note entering her tone. “Then tomorrow, come by the company. Just to look around. No pressure—we’ll keep it light.”

Leitana hesitated for a beat, then nodded. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

The SUV rolled to a gentle stop near the entrance.

Lafu smiled at her. “Go on, then. We’ll talk later.”

Leitana pushed the door open and stepped out. Cool evening air brushed her skin, carrying the faint scent of city rain. The door closed softly behind her, and the SUV pulled away with a low hum.

As she walked toward the entrance, an uneasy prickle crawled up her spine—like invisible eyes boring into her back. The fine hairs on her nape stood up.

She slowed, heart quickening, then spun around abruptly.

Nothing.

Just students streaming in and out, laughing, arguing, lost in their own worlds.

“Silly,” she murmured to herself, forcing her feet forward.

Inside, the familiar bustle enveloped her: echoing footsteps, muffled voices, the distant trill of someone practicing scales. She stopped a passing student. “Please, where de cafeteria dey?”

“Down the hall, take a left,” they replied, pointing vaguely.

“Thank you,” Leitana said, heading that way.

The cafeteria thrummed with life—chairs scraping against tile, cutlery clinking, faint music leaking from someone’s earbuds. Leitana scanned the crowded room, feeling suddenly small and tray-less.

“Leitana!” Ethan’s voice cut through the noise, warm and relieved.

She looked up to see him waving her over, flanked by Theo, Mia, Lila, and two others she hadn’t met yet. Relief loosened her shoulders as she crossed the room and slid into the empty seat they’d saved.

Theo grinned mischievously. “So… that bathroom break turned into a full vacation?”

Lila smacked his arm. “Theo! You don’t ask a lady that.”

He laughed, rubbing the spot. “I was just saying…”

Mia pushed a loaded tray toward Leitana. “Eat. You vanished on us—we were starting to panic.”

Leitana blinked in surprise. “Yu… get food for me?”

“Obviously,” Ethan said with a soft smile. “You looked like you might faint if we didn’t feed you.”

She smiled shyly, warmth spreading through her chest. “Tank yu.”

As they ate, the table filled with easy chatter.

“So Beethoven,” Theo declared dramatically, “was basically a menace.”

“A genius menace,” Mia corrected, rolling her eyes.

Ethan leaned a little closer to Leitana. “You know Mozart, right?”

Leitana chewed thoughtfully, then shook her head. “Mi know… church hymns.”

The table went still.

Then Theo burst out laughing. “Our princess knows nothing about classical music!”

Mia glared at him. “Ignore the idiot. We’ll educate you—gently.”

They dove into a heated debate—Mozart versus Beethoven—when a shadow suddenly fell across the table.

Sabrina.

Flawless hair, razor-sharp smile, two girls trailing her like silent ornaments.

She surveyed them with open disdain. “Wow,” she said loudly enough for nearby tables to hear. “If it isn’t the awful-speaking freak and her little collection of misfits.”

Mia half-rose from her seat. “Get your narrow behind away from here before I introduce your face to this tray.”

Sabrina’s smile faltered for a split second. Her gaze slid to Mia, slow and venomous. “Careful, Goth Girl. That eyeliner doesn’t hide the fact you look like a funeral threw up on you.”

Snorts of laughter rippled from nearby students.

Mia’s fists clenched on the table.

Sabrina turned her attention to Leitana, eyes glittering with cruelty. “And you. What are you even doing here? You barely speak properly, you don’t understand real music, and you play like you’re apologizing to the piano.”

She sneered. “That rubbish little hymn today? Pathetic. You know nothing about classical music. Go back to your island hut and leave the piano to people who actually belong here.”

Leitana’s fingers stilled on her fork, the metal cool against her skin.

“You don’t belong,” Sabrina pressed, voice dripping venom. “This is Juilliard—not charity. Do everyone a favor and quit before you embarrass yourself further.”

“Get out of here, Sabrina,” Ethan snapped, standing abruptly. “Now.”

Sabrina’s laugh was soft and mocking. “Touched a nerve, did I?”

Leitana pushed her chair back and rose slowly.

The table fell silent.

She met Sabrina’s gaze calmly, her eyes steady and unafraid.

“Yu sad, eh?” Leitana said quietly.

Sabrina blinked. “What?”

“Yu sad,” Leitana repeated, gentle but unflinching. “Because happy people no wake up and choose to be wicked for no reason.”

Confusion flickered across Sabrina’s face—and across the faces of everyone watching.

“You talk so much hate,” Leitana continued, her voice soft yet carrying clearly through the hush. “Papa God no like that. It spoil yu spirit.”

Murmurs spread like ripples through the nearby tables.

Sabrina scoffed, but her confidence wavered. “Don’t you dare preach at me.”

Leitana tilted her head slightly. “If yu truly strong, yu no need to step on others to feel tall.”

Dead silence.

Theo’s mouth hung open.

Mia stared at Leitana as if she’d sprouted wings.

Sabrina’s cheeks flushed crimson. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Leitana replied simply, a faint smile touching her lips. “But mi sleep peaceful at night.”

Sabrina’s friends shifted uncomfortably, exchanging uneasy glances.

“Let’s go,” one of them muttered.

Sabrina shot them a furious glare, then turned back to Leitana with one last venomous sneer. “This isn’t over.”

“Okay,” Leitana said calmly, unfazed.

Sabrina spun on her heel and stormed off, her heels clicking sharply against the floor like angry gunshots.

The table erupted.

“Holy…” Theo breathed, eyes wide.

“Leitana!” Mia grabbed her hand across the table, grinning fiercely. “Where did that come from?”

Ethan stared at her, a mix of stun and quiet admiration in his eyes. “You okay?”

Leitana sat back down, her heart racing beneath her calm exterior. “Mi fine,” she said softly. “Mi jus’ no like cruelty.”

They looked at her differently now.

With genuine awe.

And somewhere across the crowded cafeteria, unseen in the shifting sea of students…

Someone watched.

And smiled.