THE HEIRESS IN OVERALLS

Chapter 1: The Glass Gilded Cage

The radiator in Avery's studio apartment made a hissing sound like a dying animal. It was blowing air and it seemed to be mocking her. She was four months behind on her heating bill. Avery didn't look at the eviction notice stuck to her door. She was leaning over the kitchen sink scrubbing the smell of cheap floor wax off her hands.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. It was a text from the nursing home.

Ms. Cole, Leo's physical therapy session for Monday has been canceled because we didn't get paid. Please call the billing office.

Avery squeezed her eyes shut. Her wet hands were gripping the sink hard and her knuckles turned white. She had forty-two dollars in her bank account and some crackers in the pantry. She couldn't afford to be tired. She couldn't afford to be angry. Most of all she couldn't afford to mess up the interview tomorrow.

She took a navy blazer off a plastic hanger and checked it for loose threads in the dim light. Tomorrow was a day for Thorne Industries.. Rather it was the day she would finally go into the lion's den.

The lobby of Thorne Industries was like a glass cathedral. It smelled of coffee and clean air. This was a contrast to the subway ride Avery had just taken.

"Name?" The receptionist didn't look up from her computer. She was very polished with a bob that probably cost more than Avery's rent.

"Avery Cole. I'm here for the Junior Executive Assistant interview."

The woman looked at Avery's blazer. The slight fraying at the cuff was almost invisible. In this building it was like a big sign of poverty. "Floor fifty-two. Don't be late. Mr. Thorne doesn't believe in traffic excuses."

Avery got into the elevator, her heart beating fast. She wasn't here for a paycheck. Every time she closed her eyes she saw her fathers face the day the Sterling Empire fell apart. The way his hands shook when he signed the bankruptcy papers the way the Thorne family swooped in like vultures to take over.

The elevator doors opened to a hushed high-stakes world. She was led into a glass-walled waiting room with three women, all of whom looked like they had stepped out of a fashion magazine. Avery felt like a bird in a room full of peacocks.

"He's in a mood " a woman whispered as she rushed past them clutching a tablet. "The merger is stalling. If he asks for the Q3 projections just give him the folder. He hates looking at screens when he's focused."

Avery took a breath. Smoothed her skirt. Identity is a mask she reminded herself. Be the girl who needs the job. Don't let them see the girl who wants revenge.

"Ms. Cole. He'll see you now."

The office of Silas Thorne was huge with a view of the skyline. Silas didn't look up when Avery entered. He was standing by the window with his back to her. From behind he seemed to radiate a cold predatory energy. He was tall. His charcoal suit was tailored perfectly.

"Sit " he commanded. His voice was deep and resonant. It sent a shiver down Avery's spine.

Avery. Placed her worn portfolio on the desk. " Morning Mr. Thorne."

He turned then. His eyes were gray, sharp and unreadable. He didn't look at her resume. He looked at her. He studied the way she held her shoulders the way she didn't fidget under his gaze.

"You're overqualified Ms. Cole " he said, finally walking toward the desk. He leaned over it bringing the scent of sandalwood and cold iron into Avery's space. "A Masters in Finance from a state school is three years of freelance data analysis and yet you're applying for a job that involves fetching my cleaning and managing my calendar. Why?"

"I need the money, " she said, keeping her voice level. ". Thorne Industries is the best. I want to learn from the person who conquered the market."

Silas let out a humorless laugh. "Conquered. That's a word for what I do. Most people use 'destroyed.'" He sat down leaning back in his leather chair. "I don't need a fan, Avery. I need a ghost. Someone who anticipates my needs before I know I have them. Someone who doesn't have a 'life' or 'problems that interfere with my schedule. Do you have a life?"

"My life is whatever you pay it to be Mr. Thorne."

His gaze intensified. For a second Avery feared he could see right through her. Past the thrifted clothes and into the burning core of her resentment.

"We'll see, " he murmured. He reached for a stack of papers. "Start Monday. 5:00 AM. If you're a minute late don't bother coming in."

"Thank you sir."

She walked out of the office with her head high, the adrenaline finally starting to fade into an ache. She had made it. She was in.

She made it all the way back to her apartment before the world shifted on its axis. Waiting in her mailbox wasn't another bill. It was a cream-colored envelope with no return address. The paper felt thick and expensive. The kind of stationery her father used to use.

Avery tore it open as she sat on her sagging sofa. Inside was a handwritten note and a laminated card.

Avery,

The Thorne family stole the Sterling name but they couldn't steal the blood. Your grandfather left a vault in the Zurich-Manhattan Bank. The key is in your fathers watch case. You are not a temp Avery. You are the owner of 41% of the company Silas Thorne thinks he leads.

Don't let them know you know. Not yet.

—A Friend

Avery's breath hitched. She looked at the card. It was an access pass to a high-security banking tier. Her hands began to shake. If this was true... If she really held the Sterling shares... She didn't just have a job. She had a weapon.

A loud aggressive knock echoed through her door.

"Avery Cole? Open up! It's the Marshals office. We have an order for possession of the premises."

Avery looked at the cream-colored note at the door that was about to be kicked in. She was a billionaire, in hiding. She was about to be homeless.