Chapter 3 Smoke In The Playground

The smell of burnt toast and coffee filled the Donovan kitchen the next morning, but it was the only warmth in the house. Geraldine watched her daughters pack their bags at the counter. Reena was humming some Taylor Swift song under her breath while Lovia struggled with her shoelaces.

Everything looked normal.

But her world had shifted.

Bekett hadn't come to bed last night. She hadn't asked why.

Lovia's voice broke her train of thought. "Mom, can we come home early today? I don't want to do dance class."

"You love dance," Geraldine said, lowering herself to eye level.

"I don't love the teacher." Lovia's eyes were shadowed.

Reena cut in, voice soft, "Some boys were bothering her yesterday."

Geraldine's heart clenched. "What do you mean?"

"They were following her around the playground, saying weird stuff. One of them grabbed her arm."

"Did the teacher see?"

Reena shrugged. "I don't think so. Lovia didn't say anything."

Geraldine crouched down in front of Lovia, gently gripping her hands. "Sweetheart, you always tell me when something's wrong. Always. I need to protect you, okay?"

Lovia nodded but wouldn't meet her eyes.

Geraldine hugged her tightly and whispered, "No one touches you without your permission. Ever."

She dropped the girls off twenty minutes later but didn't drive away. Instead, she parked down the street, eyes fixed on the front gates of the prestigious Redwood Preparatory Academy.

Redwood.

The same name from the USB drive.

Coincidence? Or just another piece in Bekett's empire?

Thirty minutes later, Geraldine sat across from Principal Harris in his sterile office, staring at a wall lined with student trophies.

"No one reported any incident yesterday," he said in a clipped voice.

Geraldine's expression didn't waver. "Then the teachers are as blind as they are overpaid."

"I understand your concern, but-"

"No," she cut in. "You don't. If you did, there would already be an investigation. Cameras. Questions. Instead, my ten-year-old daughter gets harassed and no one blinks."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Mrs. Donovan, we take bullying seriously, but your husband has always instructed us to keep matters involving your children discrete."

Her heart dropped.

"My husband gave that order?"

Harris nodded, not realizing the fury he'd just unlocked. "Yes, ma'am. He said to inform him directly about any major issues."

Geraldine stood, clutching her purse. "Consider this major. And from now on, you answer to me."

She didn't wait for a reply. Outside, her hands were trembling. How deep did Bekett's control go? Into their education? Their safety?

She needed answers. Fast.

That night, Geraldine waited until the girls were asleep before dialing the number Lachlan had given her. He answered on the second ring.

"Mrs. Donovan," he drawled. "Couldn't resist me?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I need information."

"I assumed as much."

"I want to know what Redwood is. All of it. Not just what you let slip."

Silence crackled on the other end before Lachlan exhaled.

"It's a front."

"For what?"

"For everything Bekett doesn't want traced. Guns. Money. Trafficking routes. Shell corporations. The school is part of it-clean laundering. A network of elite families who pay top dollar to keep their names off dirty files."

Geraldine's throat dried. "And my daughters?"

"They're in the safest place, ironically. The school's protected. But it's also watched."

She closed her eyes. "He's using our kids to cover his crimes."

"He's using everyone."

"What would it take to destroy it?"

"Everything you have. And everything you are."

"I'm ready," she whispered.

Lachlan chuckled softly. "You say that now."

The next morning, a black car followed Geraldine all the way to school.

Not discreetly.

The driver didn't hide. Didn't speed. Just stayed close enough to send a message.

She called Bekett.

He didn't pick up.

She called again. On the third ring, he answered.

"Don't follow me," she snapped before he could speak.

His tone was like ice. "You've been poking around where you shouldn't."

"I've been living in a lie. What did you expect?"

"Compliance."

"Well, you married the wrong woman."

He chuckled bitterly. "No, I married the right woman. You just forgot your place."

She didn't respond. Let the silence scream louder than her words. Then she ended the call.

That night, Geraldine couldn't sleep. Again. She walked the halls barefoot, the estate dark except for security lights glowing outside.

Near the back patio, she paused. The glass doors were slightly ajar.

Her heart stopped.

She hadn't opened them.

Footsteps echoed behind her.

She turned fast, adrenaline spiking-only to find Lovia in her nightgown, holding a stuffed unicorn.

"Mommy?"

Geraldine exhaled shakily and knelt. "Baby, what are you doing up?"

"I heard someone in the garden."

Geraldine stood instantly, walking her daughter back to bed with one arm wrapped tight around her. She pressed the panic button in the hall before she even reached the girls' room.

Ten minutes later, three armed guards were sweeping the grounds.

Nothing was found.

But Geraldine knew what this was.

A warning.

She tucked the girls into bed and stood at the doorway long after they were asleep, staring at their peaceful faces.

If Bekett wanted war, she would give him hell.