How a Desperate Dance with a Dangerous Stranger Rewrote Her Entire Destiny
My fingers hovered over the keyboard.
They were stiff and cold.
I typed in my username and password, my chest tightening with every keystroke.
The database loaded slowly, a small circle spinning in the center of the screen.
“There is a tier called ‘Special Benefactors,'” I said. “It bypasses the standard background checks because the donors are vetted by the board.”
“Excellent,” Arthur said.
“I need the names,” I said. “And the photos for the security badges.”
Arthur slid a black flash drive across the desk.
“Everything you need is on there,” he said.
I plugged the drive into the side of the laptop.
Six folders appeared on the screen, each containing a name, a high-resolution photo, and a forged corporate tax ID.
One of the names was Arthur’s, listed under an alias: Arthur Pendelton.
“This is fraud,” I murmured as I dragged the files into the gala’s master database.
“It is self-preservation,” Arthur corrected me.
I clicked the final approval button.
The screen flashed a quiet green: *Registrations Confirmed. Badges Sent to Print.*