Chapter 94 – Temptation School
**Julia POV.**
**THREE YEARS EARLIER**.
Dan’s confession was a wakeup call for me. I realized what, or who, I was dealing with. Trusting him would be worse than trusting my enemy. Instincts told me to keep the tracker hidden from him. I kept waiting for the right time and the right opportunity to make full use of it.
We were back in hiding in the cabin in the forest. After two days, during which he was mostly absent, Dan approached me with another mission.
“I am going to take you to a school,” he said. “You will spend a week there and learn the tricks of the trade.”
“What school? Which trade?” I scoffed.
“A school for spies. It teaches the art of seduction and the craft of espionage,” he remarked matter-of-factly. “This is no ordinary school. It is meant for Agency recruits only. But I managed to pull some strings and got you admitted.”
‘The art of seduction’? That had a sinister touch to it which made me jittery and uneasy. But I decided to play along, determined to see this through.
On the fourth day, Dan took me to a faraway city in his car. This city, like all others of its kind, was in ruins. But a lone building right in the middle of the town stood intact and unscathed.
Dan took me right inside that building after showing his pass, and brought me to the topmost floor which had the words “Presidential Suite” written outside above the door.
“What’s this? A hotel? A resort?” I frowned inquisitively.
“It looks like one, but it isn’t,” he replied calmly. “It is actually a training centre, the best, for new recruits of the Agency.”
The luxury suite was overwhelming, a far cry from anything I had ever experienced or even imagined. As I stepped inside, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of disbelief and resentment. This place was enormous, easily bigger than any home I’d ever known. The space screamed opulence, each detail more extravagant than the last.
The living room was the first thing that caught my eye—vast and filled with the kind of furniture you only see in glossy magazines. A massive sectional couch dominated the space, upholstered in cream-colored leather so soft it looked like you could sink into it and never want to get up. In front of it was a glass coffee table, sleek and modern, with chrome legs that gleamed under the soft, ambient light streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows. Those windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, with its twinkling lights that stretched out as far as I could see, almost like the stars had fallen from the sky and settled right outside.
The walls were adorned with abstract art in bold, vibrant colors—pieces that looked expensive, probably worth more than a year of rent in the tiny apartments I’d lived in. The floors were covered in a thick, deep-blue carpet, making me feel like I was walking on air. Above me, a grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystal beads catching the light and scattering it in a warm, golden glow that bathed the entire room.
Off to the side, I noticed a minibar set against the wall, stocked with every kind of liquor, wine, and champagne you could imagine. The bottles were neatly arranged on mirrored shelves that reflected the room’s opulence back at me, making it all feel even more surreal. A marble countertop accompanied the bar, with a few tall, cushioned stools lined up as if inviting guests to sit down and indulge.
Two bedrooms branched off from the living area, each one as grand as the next. Through the slightly open door of one, I could see the edge of a king-sized bed, its white linens perfectly smoothed and the pillows piled high like they were waiting for someone important to collapse into them. The headboard was upholstered in gray velvet, and matching curtains hung by the windows, ready to be drawn to shut out the world whenever desired. Nightstands flanked the bed, topped with elegant lamps that looked like they belonged in an art gallery, not a hotel room.
Standing there, taking it all in, I felt like I had stepped into another world—one of luxury and excess that had nothing to do with the life I had known. It was hard to wrap my mind around the idea that I would be staying here, in this place, for a week at least.
The disconnect between this place and the Valley Ridge prison made my stomach churn, a mixture of anger and disbelief bubbling up inside me. This wasn’t my life.
Dan’s agents were waiting for me, seated on the oversized couch that dominated the living room. Lisa, an elderly female, looked up first, her face a mixture of impatience and thinly veiled irritation. Charles, an elderly male, on the other hand, barely glanced at me, busy flipping through a newspaper, his expression one of irritation, as if my presence was a mere inconvenience.
“Welcome to the Agency, Emily!” Lisa blurted out. “Your coaching starts at this very moment.”
Dan whispered something in Charles’ ears and left after waving me goodbye.
“He will be back in a week’s time,” Lisa chuckled viciously. “By then, you will be transformed into a … What’s the correct term to be used here, Charles?”
“A courtesan,” Charles replied without taking his eyes off the paper.
“Yes!” Lisa grinned wickedly from ear to ear. “We used to use the terms ‘hooker’ and ‘whore’ earlier. But now, it is ‘courtesan’. A sign of progress, you see.”
I was shocked beyond my wits. Where had Dan brought me to? What place was this?
“A whorehouse!” hollered Charles, as if he could read my thoughts. “But not an ordinary one. Certainly not a shitty one. Here, the best and the brightest of the Agency come to sharpen their skills in espionage, seduction and deception. I will be your caretaker, and Lisa will be your teacher. And you will be the newest student of Temptation School.”