The student body was buzzing, Pavel was drawing away from the public eye he was forced into when his infidelity was revealed, and teachers and students were attempting to figure out who was responsible for it. It would prove difficult though because if they were successful in tracing anything, it would go to other people but not her. Any good demon worth their salt knew how to divert blame onto someone else.
Everyone thought that Machiavellian politics meant that you were ambitious and stepped on others to succeed. That was true but they failed to see how that involved looking uninvolved in the machinations of vicious maneuvring. If anyone were to figure out Nat were behind it, evidence was practically non-existent.
Natália sat in her bed, dressed in a black silk dressing gown and her hair tied up in a bun. She had on a facial mask and her toes freshly painted a blood red color. In her hands was her cell-phone. Her lifeline. She never was without it and always kept a close eye on it. It was practically an extension of her at times. She had access to a document on it. That document kept track of all of her money, loaned, owed, and expected in return. Each person had a sheet and with it an entire history and constantly updating end point. She was meticulous about its upkeep.
Davian picked up the money on Monday. He was reliable and when given a task, he followed through. It was an easy barter system she could work with. Davian never asked for money. For OJ and homework? Yes. Both easily attained. He brought her the money, no questions asked (as part of the deal). He wasn't subtle but by the time he picked up the envelope, Pavel may have given up watching the money. The bird kept watch to make sure that nobody was there when Davian picked up the money.
Where was the money going to go though? She needed to have reason to have an additional $1000. For good measure she managed to get another sum of money that would work out into appearing as interest. Falsifying information wasn't hard for her. The only hard part about keeping up with her digital register was . . .
A message popped up on the top of the screen. A notification about an email from her father. He would be showing up to the parent-teacher conferences. He was sending back a contract with revisions he demanded made to it. The last thing she wanted was her dad fucking things up for her or telling her teachers anything that could make them suspicious of her. Her father was still bitter about the money he lost from that deal and she didn't trust him there. So a contract was drawn up and they were still in negotiations.
She opened the email and read through his demands. Her attractive features twisted into a sneer. Yeah, those weren't going to happen. She'd have to argue herself well though in a rebuttal to point out his demands as ridiculous or writing in another loophole that she hoped he might miss. He wouldn't though. She had learned from him and when it came to demon contracts, Gustavo Santos might be the best.
She went back to the other screen, resuming work on the sheet and finding creative ways to include the money she acquired from Pavel. It was a masterwork of lying, but there was one thing she couldn't stop from happening. Her victory had a bad taste to it when she finished the additions.
Now she had to pay her father his due. A contract made from years before that she couldn't find a way around just yet. A contract made when she was young and didn’t realize how raw of a deal she was getting. It had to be fair but she didn’t know how yet. She would figure out it out one day but until then, she went to the first sheet on her document. The one where she calculated what she owed her father.
Bitterly she plugged in the numbers, and then made note of what she had to send him from her recent gains.
A knock on the door drew Natália’s attention. She clicked the phone off and set it aside in a drawer, rising from her bed and going to the door. When she opened it, she found a girl from her self-defense class standing there. A pretty thing from the south with creamy chocolate skin.
Natália took the hem of the girl’s shirt and tugged at it, drawing her in. As soon as she was through the door, she closed it with the other girl’s body, pressing a kiss to her lips and helping her undress.